Amends
by Aragorns Arwen
Summary: Lincoln has been released from prison, battling his inner demons, while Michael awaits the outcome of his case, suffers the consequences of his earlier actions and wonders about how he can ever make AMENDS with Sara.
1. Chapter 1: The Beginning

Since completing _Amends_ in 2006, I recently re-read the story and found many grammatical and spelling errors that I missed when posting originally.

To those who received alerts for this story, please note that no new chapters were added. The story has however been modified slightly in places, with paragraphs slightly reworked, and hopefully all grammar now corrected.

**The original dedication:**

It has taken me forever to get this work of fanfiction done. Apologies to everyone who religiously came back and looked for updates and found none. To those who PM'd and emailed me, thank you for the encouragement and kind words. You will never know how greatly they were appreciated and spurred me on to make the time to write.

This story is for all MiSa shippers and to everyone who has reviewed this story or taken the time to read.

A special mention to **Kit Merlot**, whose enthusiasm and energy leaps from her emails and reviews.

I dedicate _Amends_ to her.

* * *

Dr. Sara Tancredi had just arrived home from another gruelling day at Fox River. She was tired and miserable and she knew exactly why. Entering her apartment, she tossed her keys onto the kitchen counter and perused her mail while slouching gratefully into the sofa.

Automatically, as she has done so often, too often, she reached for the remote and switched on the television. Her attention was immediately arrested as she heard the jingle signifying the start of the evening news bulletin. She didn't believe she would ever think of the news, _as just the news_, ever again. Not after having followed it so closely these three weeks. Using the remote to turn up the volume, she unconsciously tensed as pangs of anxiety unfurled in her mid-section.

The newsreader began, _"..and in a dramatic end to the Burrows trial, Judge Byron Saunders' jurors verdict came back – not guilty. Lincoln Burrows, an inmate on death row, was accused of killing the brother of the Vice President of the United States, Terrance Steadman. Despite the evidence, which seamed watertight, Burrows' lawyer and fiancée, Veronica Donovan, together with co-counsel Nick Savrinn, worked tirelessly to uncover truths, which once uncovered, wreaked havoc within the US political arena. _

_Miss Donovan and Mr. Savrinn's conclusive evidence clearly pointed to top White House officials, including the Vice President herself, Caroline Reynolds. The now former VP, together with Secret Service Agent's Kellerman and Hale, had conspired to cover their misdeeds, which included fraud, drug trafficking and murder, by framing Burrows. Indecently Special Agent Paul Kellerman murdered Agent Danny Hale after Agent Hale had wanted to come clean. _

_Judge Saunders decreed that Mr. Burrows be released from Fox River immediately, despite the other charge of 'aggravated discharge of a firearm' still pending against him. The jury unanimously agreed that Mr. Burrows has had to endure more than enough suffering for a crime he never committed. _

_President Bush is rumoured to be making a personal appearance at the public apology to Mr. Burrows, scheduled for sometime next month, on behalf of the public and the White House. When released directly after the trial, Mr. Burrows looked anything but relieved and is yet to release an official statement. _

_Lincoln's brother however, Michael Scofield, who reportedly broke into prison to support his brother, will have a verdict in his case on Friday morning. Mr. Scofield, if things go his way, is petitioning the state for an early release. His lawyer's claim he never intended to harm any of the occupants of the bank he held up, but used it only as a means of entering the State Penitentiary. Before his arrest and subsequent incarceration, Mr Scofield was an upstanding member of his community. With a degree in structural engineering, he seemed destined for great things. _

_For more on this story, tune into the broadcast at eight pm."_

Sara turned down the volume and allowed the remote to fall onto the floor, the thud muffled by the thick carpeting. Inside and out, she felt numb. Recently, her world seemed to have become like something out of the twilight zone. Despite the fact that she sensed there was something different about Michael, she would never have guessed that he was planning to break his brother out of prison.

_But surely I should have known? But known what? _

Sara leaned back against the sofa and calmed her quaking nerves. Just because he was a genius, seemed sincere and so out of place in prison did not mean that he didn't actually belong there.

Much of his trial had been kept under tight wraps. What the general population didn't know was that Michael Scofield was also petitioning the state for a full pardon, and if granted, he would basically be able to resume his life as before, his criminal record completely expunged.

The only reason she knew was because her father, being a US Governor knew, and she made him tell her everything. Despite their tenuous relationship, he owed her that much. He'd not asked too many questions about her reasons, assuming she took a keen interest as the Doctor who worked with both Lincoln and Michael.

As for Michael, she had not seen him since his brother's trial began, more than three weeks ago. Well, she had seen him, but she hadn't allowed herself to afford him the opportunity of conversing with her. She just couldn't. Sara sighed.

"I'm not going to rehash this entire debacle again! Maybe I was a naïve fool, and Michael had used me like he used all the other inmates and guards at the facility, but I'm over it," she muttered under her breath.

She wasn't really angry, or so she told herself continuously. Knowing with what insane notions he had entered the prison, she didn't blame him for his actions. But with that said, she had to face the obvious conclusion that everything they shared, or shared in her world, had been a lie. Every word uttered, every flirtation had been well calculated and planned out. That _knowledge _hurt her more than she could say.

It also disturbed her greatly that she still felt so strongly about him. He was a prisoner for God's sake! Ok, so maybe he wasn't the psychopath most criminals were, but just because the bravery of his actions warmed her heart didn't mean it lessened the pain of his betrayal.

She had of course been the object of many a flirtatious innuendo by prison inmates. It came with the territory. But with Michael, she had actually enjoyed sparring with him, looked forward to tending to him, and especially seeing him daily in the infirmary. She had even lain awake some nights worrying about whether he would make it through the night. After he had had his toes brutally amputated, she had almost filed the motivation needed to have him removed from Fox River. But she had realised that she would be going against his express wishes and doing something that had more to do with easing her anxiety with regards to his safety.

Sara moved from her position on the sofa and entered her bedroom. There, on the nightstand beside her bed, lay the single origami flower Michael had given her for her birthday. She had purposefully removed it from her office, with every intention of throwing it away, but she couldn't. Instead, here it lay, tormenting her. Yet she was still as incapable of getting rid of it now as she had been then. A pack rat indeed..

But she was resigned. If things went according to the way her father saw things going, Michael would receive his pardon and leave Fox River by Friday night.

Sara fingered the perfect flower, gently tracing the paper petals before unconsciously closing her eyes and running it gently along her jaw line.

He would be leaving behind the depravation of prison life, and walking away from her…


	2. Chapter 2

"Michael? Michael..? Dammit, are you even listening to me?!" Lincoln muttered in frustration.

It was a weird feeling, being the one on the other side of the visitation scenario. He was free but Michael was not. And at the moment, while trying to give his brother the latest on his case, Michael was staring intently at his linked hands, and it didn't seem like he had been listening to a word of Lincoln's theories.

Michael roused from his private musings at his brother's insistent tone. "Sorry Linc. Just thinking."

Lincoln paused for a moment and looked at his brother. "Yeah," he said slowly, "I can see that. What's up?"

An idea of T-Bag or Abruzzi's cronies hassling Michael sprang to mind. "The crew on P.I not giving you any hassles in here are they? Because if they are-"

"No! No, nothing like that," Michael interjected. "At least nothing out of the ordinary." He smiled wearily, running his hands briskly over his shaven head.

"What's going on Michael? From all accounts, you should be walking on cloud nine. Come Friday, you'll be out of here and our lives will begin. We've been given a second chance and you seem hesitant to take it."

Looking at the brother who sat across from him in the visitation hall, Michael could note the changes in Lincoln. He'd been a free man for two days now, and what a change 48 hours could make to a man who had been incarcerated and on death row.

There was nothing obvious. Lincoln was still built as solidly as ever, a tad under nourished if the pallor of his skin tone was anything to go by, but there was something in his eyes that could only be described as free.. His brother felt truly free.

"Not hesitant Lincoln. I'm glad you're out of here."

"You'll be out of here soon too. I can't believe you're stuck in here while I get to-"

Michael scowled and held up his hand to cut his brother off mid tirade. "It's a moot point, and you know it. Don't feel guilty about me being in here. Besides, its over soon.. Just like you said."

An easy silence stretched between them.

Michael's blue eyes gazed off to the window as he continued, "Ever wanted to make amends for something you had no control over, but feel so wretched about becau-" Michael winced. "Sorry.. I'm sure you know _exactly_ what that feels like."

Lincoln grinned. "Yeah, I do." Trying to lighten the mood a little he said, "Well, look at the challenge ahead of us. If Friday _doesn't_ go according to plan, _I_ can always attempt to break _you_ out of here."

Michael gave a short laugh. "As if you could! You know _I_ was gifted with the genius." They both chuckled.

After a minute, Lincoln said, "But what's going on? Something's bothering you. Whose bad side you get onto that's forcing you to want to make amends?"

Michael looked his brother in the eyes, and then sighed. "Dr. Tancredi"

Lincoln coughed, "What?" That was the last name he expected to hear. "Dr. Tancredi? The Governor's daughter? The Doctor here at Fox River? The woman who-"

"You don't have to launch into her resume, I know all of that already!" Michael replied irritably.

Lincoln leaned in closer to his brother and whispered, "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Look, Sara's really pissed of-"

"Ohh.. Sara?" Another loud cough. "You're on first name basis?" Lincoln closed his eyes for a moment and then peaked at Michael through his left eye.

Michael glared at his brother at the interruption, but continued, "Because she figured I used her as just another pawn in my game plan to get you out of here. I've been trying to get close to her the last three weeks, but she's avoiding me by making Katie – her nurse," Michael interjected at Lincoln's baffled look, "administer my shot-"

Lincoln's ears perked up. "You're not still taking that shot are you? That's rhetorical.." He muttered almost to himself. "You're not diabetic!" Lincoln calmed his voice and continued in more subdued tones. "You've been using the counter-agent for a long time and surely taking both drugs is going to have an effect on your system! The reason for taking it was to get into the infirmary. As I'm out of Prison and you're being released soon, there is no reason to need to be in there!" An idea stuck. "You're not trying to break Sucre out of here are you?"

"My reason for wanting to get into the infirmary is still urgent! It just has nothing to do with the escape anymore," Michael snapped. "Besides, Sucre is done with the idea of breaking out of here."

Lincoln ignored the latter part; latched onto the former and whispered incredulously, "Don't tell me you have the hots for Trancredi?"

Somehow it managed to sound like a question and a statement all at the same time. Jeez, he felt a headache coming on.

Michael paused before answering. "There is something there, Linc."

"Jesus, it gets worse," Lincoln muttered under his breath.

"And I just need to talk to her," Michael continued firmly. "I don't want to leave here knowing I hurt her, and not having the opportunity to explain." Irritated at his brother's reaction, he asked, "And why are you so annoyed anyway?"

Lincoln tried to calm his racing thoughts. Despite his best efforts, his tone was still heated as he whispered, "Michael, her father is a US Governor. He could make your case difficult if he suspected that a con, no matter how innocent or good natured his intentions were, was looking at his daughter in any other way than the doctor/patient way. I don't want anything to go down that could potentially jeopardise getting you out of here!"

Michael sighed. Lincoln's reasoning was sound. He knew that Governor Tancredi would not take it lightly should he get wind of his interest in Sara. _Dammit_! She was avoiding him. And for once, he was out of ideas as to how to solve this problem. His movement was restricted. And with her avoiding administering his shot, he had no other reasons to visit the infirmary. Lincoln's voice brought him from his musings.

"Michael, just promise me that you'll steer clear of Tancredi." Michael raised his eyebrows at his brother. Lincoln rolled his eyes and then raised his hands in defeat.

"Well, at least till you get out of here!"

Lincoln knew his brother. He saw in the determined stare and the slight tilt at the corner of his mouth that Michael had other ideas. And none of them seemed to have anything to do with steering clear of the good Doctor.


	3. Chapter 3

_Michael_

Walking down the corridor en-route to the infirmary, he prepared himself for another round with Katie. He knew she suspected something.

Everyday for the last three weeks he had asked the same question, "Where's Dr. Tancredi?"

And everyday he got the same answer, "With other patients."

If he could but get a look at her! She'd managed to stay completely out of his path. Knocking on the door, and preparing to see _Nurse Betty,_ Michael was wholly unprepared when the object of his affection seemed to be standing right ahead.

The first thing he noticed was that she looked tired. She was rubbing the back of her neck to relieve some of the tension, and sighed when she heard the knock. Turning to face him, he was left in no doubt that he was the last person she expected to see. Before she had the opportunity to mask it, numerous emotions passed over her face. Some gave him hope but others dashed it immediately. She was mesmerising with the noon sun at her back. His palms began to sweat.

_Sara_

She bid farewell to another inmate with one of the usual ailments. She was completing her intake form when there was a knock at the door, signalling another patient. Sara sighed and rubbed the back of her neck briefly.

_Would this day ever end? _

Plastering her professional mask in place, she glanced at the latest arrival, and her heart literally felt as if it missed a beat. He hadn't changed. Not one bit. Not that he should have, but it suddenly felt like it had been months instead of weeks since they had last seen each other. She was ambushed by various emotions. Relief, that he was still alive, jealousy that he seemed to be as he was when they last met - no signs of having pined for her at all - hurt at the insurmountable barriers between them, but mostly she had to catch her breath at the intense joy she felt swell inside her.

_Were his eyes always so blue?_ He was gorgeous. Butterflies took flight in her tummy.

Sara was the first to speak. "Mr. Scofield, come for your daily fix?" She presented him with her back as she composed herself behind the guise of preparing his insulin injection.

Michael entered the room and took two steps towards her, but thought better of it, and headed to the gurney instead.

Oh, yeah, she was hurt.

"Urm.. yes. Haven't seen you around of late. Katie tells me you've been busy."

_Give her some space.._

_She's had three weeks!_

_Give her some space Scofield.._

_Alright.. but not too much_

Unaware of the mental battle Michael was having with himself, Sara put on a brave face and approached Michael, stethoscope in hand.

"I have other patients, Michael." She signalled for him to lift his sweater. "How have you been feeling lately?" she asked briskly, looking at his chart.

Ignoring her question, Michael countered, "Why have you been ignoring me Sara?"

That got her attention he thought, as she looked right at him, surprised. Their eyes locked briefly before she looked back to her chart.

"I've been busy." She said. Using the opportunity to change the subject, she asked, "How's your brother doing? I hear the White House is giving him the royal treatment." She stood in front of him and placed the stethoscope on his chest.

"Inhale please."

Michael obliged. The heat from her hand was burning a hole through his shirt as it rested on his shoulder.

"Linc's fine. He really just wants to put this nightmare behind him, marry Veronica and raise their family."

"Breathe in." She moved the stethoscope and listened to his heart beat. "Exhale. He's a lucky man."

"How so?"

Sara moved to his left side and placed the instrument on his back. "Inhale. He's got his life back, a woman who loves him, his son - exhale - he has a future."

Sara didn't say anything else and stillness settled over them.

"Why have you been ignoring me Sara?"

"Why didn't you tell me Michael?" They both asked simultaneously.

Silence.

Sara made a move to the left but made the mistake of looking at him. Their faces were so close; they stared at each other.

"I never lied to you," he whispered. "And what I didn't say, I couldn't."

"You don't have to tell me this. It's fine," she said briskly. "I'm your Doctor, you're my patient. And just for the record, I would have been obliged to inform the prison authorities."

He searched her face until she was forced to take a step back.

"I know."

"At least you're not like my father." She let out a little cynical laugh. "He would have told me everything and expected me to cover for him."

"Sara, I once told you there were answers to all your questions about me."

Frustrated, she said, "Like what Michael? You broke into Fox River to break out your brother." At his startled look, she said, "Yes, I know. I know about the plan."

It clicked. "Your father?"

"Yes, Daddy, being the _Governor_," added with liberal amounts of sarcasm, "has access to the information us mere mortals don't get to see or hear about." She tossed his folder onto her desk and leaned against the wall.

"So I know. You had it all figured out. Access tunnels, the key role-players, everything you needed, and who you could get it from." Her voice seemed to have become tinged with anger. "Everyone was a pawn in your game."

"It's true, to some extent." Michael hopped off the gurney, walked over to the window, placed his hands in his pockets and stared at what would have been their escape route.

"I had started studying the plans for Fox River and the backgrounds of its inhabitants for months. Once I made the decision to break Lincoln out, there was no going back. I knew they would send him to the new maximum-security facility. So I did everything possible to head up the design team. I learnt the layout. Everything from which bolt was used in the bleachers to who designed the toilet seats. Once prisoners were transferred here, I studied them, trying to ascertain who could be allies, and who enemies. Half the plan was about getting in, the other half was all about getting out, and knowing who needed to be brought on board to make it happen."

Sara was flabbergasted. "Was loosing your limbs part of the bargain?"

Michael smiled and turned briefly to look at her, "No, that I didn't see coming," he said wryly, before turning back to the window.

"They could have killed you! You do realise that? For all your carefully laid plans Michael, this place, its not some tea party. Dammit, they could've slit your throat without thinking twice!" She cried more vehemently than she intended.

"Glad to know you care Dr. Tancredi." This time, he treated her to the full force of his intense stare.

Sara looked at her hands, but she didn't look away fast enough to hide the guilty blush that stole its way across her face.

_Not yet Scofield. Stick to the facts._

"But you're right. I learnt that the hard way. The inmates here, I thought they could be manipulated into doing the things I needed them to do. But things kept taking a new turn, and consequences to various actions were taking its toll. When the first prison riot broke out, I was definitely the wide-eyed fish. I saw young men die in front of me, and it could so easily have been me. But I had chosen this. I needed to get my brother out."

"So you dug from your cell, through the tunnels, broke through the walls that lead you to the storeroom below this infirmary." They had reached the part where she fit in. Sara swallowed. "Luckily you can't fake being a diabetic. It gave you access to this place." She motioned to the room.

Michael shifted uncomfortably. Here it comes. "Actually, about the diabetes, I'm really no-"

There was a sharp rap at the door and in marched Captain Brad Bellick. "Scofield, been in here an awful long time. Just checking that everything is still kosher Doc." Bellick looked at Sara with a speculative gleam in his eyes.

"Everything is fine Officer," she replied coolly. "I was just about to administer Mr. Scofield's shot."

"Well, hurry on up Doc, there's a back-up out there."

Sara took a step towards the Captain and in a steely tone said, "This is _my_ office, Mr. Bellick, and it is _my_ domain. In here, you have no authority, so I ask you to please refrain from attempting to tell me how to do my job."

Stressing every word as she went along, Sara continued, "Now, if you will be so kind as to wait in the hallway? I'll be done with Mr. Scofield in a minute." Her tone brooked no opposition, as she turned her back and ignored the man.

Michael didn't like the look in his eyes.

Bellick seemed to be thinking about something intently before he finally said, "Come a long way since we first met, hey, Doctor?" Sara stiffened slightly.

"Yes, Officer, it would seem I have. Which is more than I can say for you." Bellick stiffened at the quip about his rank this time, and with nothing further to add, he left.

"What was that all about?" Michael asked.

Sara prepped his forearm. "Nothing for you to be concerned about."

"He's dangerous. I don't want you-"

"You don't want me?" Sara jabbed the needle into Michael's flesh with more force than necessary. "I assure you Mr. Scofield," And this time, she held his gaze steady, "I don't need your approval or your sanction to do anything. I am a big girl and I can take care of myself."

Michael winced at the sting to his arm. "I only meant-"

"I know what you meant," she interrupted, and it's not necessary. "Now, I have other patients to see. I'll have Katie check your bandage tomorrow. Good-bye Mr. Scofield." She said briskly. She had already dismissed him. She held the door open and waited for him to pass through.

With Bellick watching, he had no choice but to leave. But not before whispering as he brushed passed her, "Back into hiding Sara?" leaving her staring at his retreating figure.


	4. Chapter 4

The cell was dark and damp. Despite the warm weather the area had been experiencing lately, today, it was raining. Not storming, but a light continuous drizzle. Every drop seemed to be mocking him as they hit the window pain. The breeze whispered of past torments, things left unsaid, regrets, it whispered of sorrow.

"Linc, its time." CO Patterson, a large kindly prison guard moved across the room and helped Lincoln to his feet.

Time was up. His time had come to an end. Lincoln had never considered himself religious, but he had found himself praying last night, all night.

"CO, thanks, for everything." Lincoln muttered awkwardly. "You treated me fairly, I wont forget that." Lincoln released a choked laugh. "_I'll never forget_.. kinda useless considering where I'm headed."

Patterson looked at Lincoln with sadness. He had seen many a man take the path Lincoln was about to take, but he felt sympathy. His job was not about judgement, the courts did that. Whether Lincoln was innocent or not, that was for the courts to decide, and evidently, they had. But something told him that this man might very well be dying for a crime he never committed. That however, was now irrelevant. His time had come.

"I know, Linc." He looked sad for a moment. Friendships were not built in prison. But he felt he and Lincoln had had an understanding and a respect. Then said, "This, it may be all wrong. By rights, perhaps you shouldn't even be here. But you are. Be brave Lincoln . God Bless."

Lincoln felt tears burn the back of his throat and sting his eyes, but he fought them. His family was out there. He would be strong for them. He was escorted, chained, into a tiny room. A chair was at the centre and he was all but shoved into it as his body rebelled against what was about to happen. He started to sweat and a million things flashed through his mind at once.

_Flash_

His parents

_Flash_

Michael's face when he was a boy, his face as a man

_Flash_

The first time he laid eyes on Veronica

_Flash_

A kaleidoscope of images.. people from his past, some good, some bad

_Flash_

His son. The most important part of his existence, and the one part of his life he regretted the most. Not being there for him. He loved LJ – unconditionally.

It seemed like the image had become a reality. As he stared ahead, he saw his son, Lincoln Jnr, through the glass that he was facing. There were a handful of people present. He had eyes for only three of them. LJ and Veronica stood together, her arm supporting him, both trying to be brave, but their eyes were red-rimmed, the tell tale sign of having spent the night crying. And Michael, standing apart, stood with Dr. Tancredi.

As they made eye contact, he saw the tears well in his brother's eyes as he mouthed I love you.

Suddenly, things changed. His arms were viciously strapped to the chair. He tried to choke out a plea, but he couldn't speak. Sweat poured down his body until he was drenched. All those pairs of eyes were just staring at him. He felt the blackness of insanity grip him. Those eyes, just staring. Some hard and cold, others infused with sympathy and regret.

"No! no!!" He screamed as a black bag was placed over his head. He thrashed left and right in an effort to dislodge it. "No!! Please! No! LJ! LJ! I love you! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

And then it hit him. The first current. It robbed him of breath and a pain that could not be described ripped through his body. He was terrified. Wave after wave of pain, just excruciating pain..

Veronica Donovan had become a light sleeper. She supposed her profession had something to do with that. Her hours were always erratic, and when a case was hot, there was little time for the luxury of sleep. Since working on Lincoln 's case, and having to fear for her life during the process, she had become a very light sleeper. Well, that and the fact that she was so attuned to the man lying beside her, that she was awake the minute she felt him fussing next to her.

Lincoln , having rolled onto his back, was troubled. He tossed slightly, and his brow was drenched in a faint sheen of sweat. He moaned once before tossing again.

_Nightmare_, Veronica thought.

It was definitely not uncommon after everything he had been through. Although she and Lincoln had discussed Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, it was not something he could focus on at present. Not with Michael still in Fox River .

Sitting up, she noticed that the sun was just about breaking through the clouds. Switching on the bedside lamp, she gently leaned across Lincoln , touched his brow, and called, " Lincoln ?"

" Lincoln ," she called again, more firmly this time, after receiving nothing but another fretful toss.

He awoke with a jerk, his eyes cloudy as he met Veronica's concerned gaze.

"Veronica?" He swung his legs over the side of the bed and rested his head in his hands. He could feel his heart pounding wildly, although the tempo seemed to be returning to normal. His face was damp, and his hands shook slightly.

He felt Veronica embrace him from behind, wrapping her arms around his chest. With her cheek next to his, she kissed his temple and whispered, "Another nightmare?" With his nod of accent, she asked, "You ok?"

"Yeah." He rubbed her arms. It was always the same dream. Him being executed. His worst fear coming true.

"Its just so disturbing. I was in there, just waiting for my death, then hoping I would make it out alive, only to have those hopes dashed so many times. It may sound strange, but I can hear the silence. Hear the ringing in my ears because there was nothing else to hear.. stillness. Just stillness. I thought I would go mad sometimes."

He paused and continued, "then Michael arrived at Fox River , and although I would never have wished him there, I was so happy he was."

He turned slightly to look at Veronica. "You know what I mean?"

At her nod, he continued. "It was almost a comfort. I wasn't alone anymore. He was there. And he had this ridiculous idea of breaking me out, and my head was telling me it was crazy, but my heart wanted to believe that we had a chance."

Veronica let him talk, and just listened. She could never imagine what he had been through in prison. And she knew instinctively that a part of him would always be haunted by what had happened there. But it was over, and she was determined to drench him in love and memories so vivid, so colourful, it would help ease the pain. She thanked God everyday for having another chance with him. She sometimes wondered how they ever spent all that time apart. He was her soul mate, and she loved him.

Veronica felt a shiver pass through him and whispered, "Come on, lie back down. You're getting cold."

Lincoln did as she asked, but pulled her close. Letting her head rest under his chin, he wrapped her in his embrace, letting her get comfortable, and absorbed her warmth.

"I know you want me to see a Doctor about the nightmares, and I will. I just need to get Michael out before I can focus on anything else."

He felt her nod. "I know honey. I know," she said as she ran her palm over his chest in a soothing motion. "And it's almost over. I spoke to Nick yesterday, and he confirmed that his sources all agree things look good for Michael's release on Friday. In fact, I'm heading over to Fox River this morning. I need to make sure Michael's medical records are sealed after the trial."

"Do you need to go all the way over there for that? Surely an email or a call will do."

Veronica grinned. "No, I don't, but I'm curious about this Dr. Tancredi I've been hearing so much about." She shifted off Lincoln , and rested her head on her palm.

"Firstly, she's got Michael in knots, and I'm curious about a woman who could accomplish that. And sec-"

Lincoln groaned, pulling Veronica back into his embrace, "You're not trying to play matchmaker are you? I already gave Michael the third degree about the woman. I have no problem with her; it's her family that worries me. Her father has the power to snap his fingers and keep Michael inside for half his sentence at least, and transfer him for good measure to break his contact with her, so I'm a little weary."

Ignoring his words, Veronica rolled on top of him, leaned down, and kissed his lips, "I hear what you're saying my love, but she took excellent care of you when you were there, and I cannot forget that."

The rest of her words were muffled as she continued reigning kisses all over his chest before making her way back up to his lips.

"I know but I think-" Lincoln never finished his sentence.

"Don't think," she whispered against his lips, her black hair creating a curtain around them, "feel."

Becoming distracted, Lincoln kissed her back, nightmare, Michael and Dr. Tancredi all but forgotten.


	5. Chapter 5

Fox River would always make her uneasy. The place held way too many disturbing memories. Going through the security checkpoint, she headed to the main reception area.

Speaking to the guard on duty, she said, "I'm Veronica Donovan, I've got a 10 'o clock with Dr. Tancredi."

The guard checked the register in front of him and nodded. "If you'll wait over there," he gestured to a couple of chairs off to the side, "I'll have someone take you up."

Veronica thanked him and moved over to the designated area. She refrained from sitting, but rather walked over to the prison notice board. There were various articles about Warden Henry Pope, and the good work he was trying to do by promoting rehabilitation within the prison.

Articles about Sara Tancredi were also there. It seemed her humanitarian efforts were varied. Before being able to read on, Veronica felt a tap on her shoulder. A guard had arrived. Following the young officer, she prepared to meet Sara Tancredi.

This is going to be interesting, she thought.

Sara's office phone rang. "Dr. Tancredi," she said into the receiver.

"Hello Doctor? A Veronica Donovan is coming up."

Sara felt a shiver of anxiety.

"Thanks," she said before ending the call.

She had wondered why Lincoln's lawyer, and now fiancée, had wanted to see her. She was curious though. Taking a minute to check her appearance, she tidied her desk and heard the knock at the door. Heading to open it, Katie stood outside with Miss Donovan.

"Veronica Donovan for you Sara," Katie said.

"Thanks Katie. Would you see that some coffee is brought up please?"

At Katie's nod of accent, she ushered Veronica inside and shut the door.

"Miss Donovan, Sara Tancredi. A pleasure to meet you." Sara extended her hand and clasped Veronica's in a firm handshake.

"Veronica," She added, as she shook her hand in return.

"Please, have a seat." Sara gestured to the chair at the foot of her desk, made sure Veronica was seated before taking a seat across from her.

"Forgive my frankness, but I must admit to being at a loss as to why you would want to see me."

Veronica smiled, and waved her hand in a sign of understanding. "No, please. In my field, frankness is hard to come by. There is the matter of Michael's medical records. With the verdict being handed down on Friday, I wanted to meet with you and ensure that his records are filed and sealed. A clerk of the court will be sent to collect them as soon as the trial is over." Veronica grimaced, "assuming the verdict is as expected."

Sara nodded. "I am aware of the tenuous nature of the outcome. You can be assured of my discretion. I have already sealed most of his files. There are just a few loose ends that need to be tied. Everything will be in order, come Friday."

"Thank you. I really appreciate it." Veronica added as Katie knocked and entered with their coffee. "Thank you."

Waiting for the door to close, Sara continued, "Forgive me, but this matter could easily have been dealt with over the phone. I don't see why there was the need for you to make the journey."

Veronica appreciated her astuteness. Smiling, she said, "Lincoln asked me the very same thing. He actually suggested I send you an email!"

Sara grinned, but waited for Veronica to continue.

"There are actually two reasons I wanted to meet with you. Firstly, and most importantly, to thank you in person for everything you did for Lincoln while he was here. He does speak highly of you." To herself she added, even if he doesn't want you involved with his brother – yet. "And I am really grateful that you took such excellent care of him."

Sara sipped her coffee and said, "Thank you. But really, its nothing. Its my job to take care of those who need help."

"It's your job, yes, but you did more than that. You made certain allowances for Lincoln," and added on impulse, "and Michael. That speaks highly of your character."

Sara seemed to ignore the reference to Michael. "It was the right thing to do. At the time, Lincoln was on death row. I think it was important for them to have some time together."

She thought for a moment, and then added, "The system tries its best. I'm sure you know that more than anyone, Veronica. But under normal circumstances, they would not have been able to spend any time together. I just made their visits to the infirmary coincide. Lincoln is a good man. What he was forced to endure was a cruel twist of fate, but I trust that he will be able to put this behind him. He has his son.. and you."

From what she could tell, Veronica was a strong woman. And a helluva lawyer. She liked her.

Latching onto Sara's reference to Lincoln's ability to move forward, Veronica asked, "If I may, in cases such as Lincoln's, nightmares and flashbacks are normal, aren't they?"

Sara nodded. "Most definitely. PTSD is extremely common. In my final report to the courts I mentioned that my recommendation was that Lincoln attend counselling to deal with the issues he faced in here. PTSD need not be a long-suffering trauma. There are new techniques – desensitization, re-exposure, just talking about it – that have proven to work wonders with sufferers. Is he displaying any symptoms?"

This time, Veronica nodded. "Yes, he has nightmares. He wakes up in a cold sweat most nights. It's always the same recurring themes. Him being strapped in the chair, watching us, watching him die."

Her eyes were filled with worry and compassion. "I'm scared sometimes. Will he always suffer so? It seems so unfair, after everything he has had to go through." Veronica laughed. "As silly as it sounds, I wish I had a magic pill to make it go away."

Sara could feel the love the other woman felt for Lincoln. Before she could stop herself, she asked, and stated, "You love him very much. And you want to make it better. It is understandable."

Veronica smiled. "Yes, I do. And I don't want this to take over his life. He has been given a second chance. But he cannot focus on getting himself help until Michael is free. He blames himself for having him in here in the first place."

"I somehow cannot see Michael doing anything he doesn't want to do." Sara inserted. Gauging Veronica's open demeanour, she added, "My father seems to think Michael will be released. With the political ties attached to Lincoln's case, the White House wants the best PR out of this. Michael may benefit from that."

Veronica picked up on her slightly tensed tone. "Your father is the Governor of Illinois?"

"Yes, he is. And you must be wondering what on earth I'm doing here when I could be having luncheon with the society butterflies at the country club?"

Veronica laughed. "Am I that obvious?"

"Not really. You're a lawyer remember? Lots of cloak and dagger." They both grinned. Sara continued. "My father doesn't like me being here, but I need to be here. If change is to happen, I cannot wait to see it. I need to help, be a part of the process, help to see it realised."

"That's a very brave choice. Especially choosing a prison to make your efforts a reality."

"I don't kid myself into thinking that I'm making a world of difference, but any small change in the lives of these inmates is rewarding. I live for that satisfaction."

"I see we have both chosen professions in which we hope to make a difference." With a common understanding formed between them, Veronica continued the thread of their previous line of discussion.

"You were right in your opinion that Michael has a mind of his own. That's what I keep telling Lincoln, but you know men. And they are brothers. With regards to the outcomes, yes, we are hopeful. But it is still nerve-wracking. All the waiting and the speculation. At this point, Lincoln and Michael just want some peace."

Thinking for a moment, Veronica made a decision. Sara needed to understand. "Lincoln sacrificed a lot for Michael. Hence, the reason for his protective nature. Part of the reason Lincoln was in so much trouble in the past was because he wanted the best for Michael."

Sara creased her brow. "I don't follow. I mean, I know that Michael had a tertiary education and that Lincoln didn't, but what does that have to do with anything? As far as Michael's file goes, his studies were funded by a trust set up by their parents."

"Lincoln paid for Michael's studies." Veronica said. She saw the confusion on Sara's face. "Michael always believed the money came from a trust. It didn't. Lincoln borrowed the money, knowing he would never be able to pay it back. He wanted Michael to have a better life than he had. He was determined to see that happen."

"I didn't know." Sara whispered. Her mind was reeling. "That would explain Michael going to any lengths to get his brother out..?"

"Yes," Veronica nodded. "He felt guilty too. Too much guilt going around."

They were quiet for a moment, both women assimilating what they had learnt from the other. Sara finally spoke, "Thank you for telling me, but I don't understand. Why are you telling me all this?"

Veronica started to rise. Picking up her handbag, she waited for Sara to rise before saying, "I know you care about Michael."

She saw Sara start to interject, but carried on. "I just wanted you to understand. He loves his brother. He felt, may still feel indebted to him. His reasons for getting in here, you need to know what they are so that you can understand it." Looking Sara in the eye, she said. "It tore him up to see the things he saw here, to betray confidences," and then added, "to lie to people he had come to care about."

Sara broke eye contact and stared out of the window. "I think he deserves the chance to explain." Veronica added.

Inside Sara grimaced, but outwardly she smiled bravely.

_I can't take anymore,_ she whispered inwardly.

She spent way too much time thinking about Michael. She was not going to allow another reason to crop up.

"Thank you for coming. And for explaining." Her voice a little tight and cool, she extended her hand. "It was a pleasure meeting you Veronica. Please extend my best wishes to Lincoln. And if you need any help finding someone good to help with Lincoln, I know a few really exceptional counsellors."

"I'll keep that in mind." Veronica shook her hand and then turned to leave.

Sara sounded a little terse. But that was ok, Veronica thought. The woman had a lot of decisions to make. If she chose to listen to Michael, things will get even more complicated than they are now. She may not be ready to handle that. Not many women would be. So Veronica understood her defensive reaction.

Sara watched her go before something she said came back to her. "Veronica, what was the other reason?"

For a moment, Veronica looked lost. "Other reason?"

"Yes, you said there were two reasons you came to see me. The one was to thank me for taking care of Lincoln, and the other? You never did say?"

Veronica grinned. "Oh, yes." She opened the door and stepped over the threshold before turning back and saying, "I wanted to meet the woman who has Michael tied up into knots; the woman who is making him consider a new plan of action."

Sara flushed slightly under the Veronica's direct, but highly amused gaze. "Plan of action..?" she asked, her words trailing off.

"Making amends, Sara. Making amends." And with that, she added, "Keep well. And thanks again. I'll be in touch."

Veronica had been with Sara for over an hour, much longer than any of the women had expected the meeting to last. That meant that there were loads to do before the working day was over. In spite of that knowledge, it didn't stop Sara from spending the rest of the day going over Veronica's parting shot.

_"Making amends, Sara. Making amends."_"

And despite wishing that she could control it, her heart beat just a little faster at the notion.


	6. Chapter 6

Sara was tired. It had been a long, draining day, and the week loomed ahead like an imminent migraine. She needed to think and she needed time alone. Perhaps she could take some time off. She sighed.

_That is a fantasy_, but she savoured the thought before reality intervened.

There was too much to do, not to mention Michael's impending release at the end of the week. His medical records needed to be updated, proofed and sealed. Being Monday, that left four days for her to make it through.

"4 days, 96 hours.." she muttered to herself. She finally gave up all presence of working and closed the file in front of her. She rested her palms against her eyes and slouched in her chair.

"You need to get it together Doctor. You need to get it together." A little laugh escaped her. "And now, I'm talking to myself. I am loosing it!"

There was a knock on the infirmary door and Katie, the nurse on duty and Sara's assistant, walked in.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" Katie was a take-charge personality. Not one to rest on her laurels and wait for something to happen, she was pro-active and a whirlwind of energy.

"Sure. If you're as tired as I am, then any excuse to take a break is most welcome. Have a seat." Sara said. "This place is busier than usual. And if this is any indication of the week to come, we're in for a long one."

Katie made her way to the chair opposite Sara's. "Tell me about it. For a group of men who spend most of their time in a cell doing nothing, these guys definitely get into all kinds of trouble."

Sara held up her hand in protest. "Don't get me started. Its _because_ they spend most of their time in those cells that they get into all kinds of trouble." Sara sighed for the third time in about three minutes. "We need a change of scenery, my friend."

Katie laughed. "Famous last words, Dr. Tancredi. You and I both know you love the work you do here. But I suppose you're allowed some frustration and burnout every once in a while."

Sara laughed too. "Once in a while is better than all the time! Aah! Before I get too melancholy, what'd you want to talk to me about?"

Looking apologetic, "Unfortunately, I have some news that will do nothing to improve your mood," Katie said. "My husband just called, he broke his leg in an accident over at the construction site. He's been taken to Chicago General, but won't be required to stay overnight. I need to take a couple days off."

Sara, immediately concerned said, "I'm sorry to hear that. It can't be bad if they're not keeping him." Then added, "You don't seem overly alarmed about the injury."

Katie chuckled. "James has been in so many accidents over the past couple years, that its almost like routine to me. Remember the last time it was his arm? That man is a klutz," there was loads of affection in that statement, "But thanks. I need to be home to take care of him. Men revert to the foetal stage when injured or ill." They shared a laugh. "I've made all the necessary arrangements. Two nurses will be in to assist daily-"

"But?" Sara felt a twinkle of apprehension

"But, there is no one to take the night shift for the next three nights, except you. Sorry," Katie said with a grimace. "On the brightside, you'll of course get to start at 7pm, and have your days free to nap and read and shop.."

Sara laughed, and then sighed - again. "You don't have to pitch night shift Kate. It's ok. Not ideal, but ok."

At least this way I get to steer totally clear of a certain inmate, she thought. Yes, this suits me perfectly. By the time I get on normal duty, it will be Friday and Michael Scofield will be enroute out of here. Still her stomach clenched at the idea.

"Nights are quiet, Sara," Katie continued. "More often than not, you get to catch some sleep in-between ward rounds. We're also low on inpatients. So far, only three, and none of them require nightly supervision."

"Ok, sounds sweet." Glancing at her wristwatch, she noticed it was almost 16.30. "Half hour and we get to leave. Who's left to see today?"

Katie checked the file in her hand. "Vincent Jones and..," she flipped the page, "mm.. your boy, Michael Scofield. I still maintain, that one's too cute!"

Sara tried to look stern. "He's not my boy."

_But he was cute_, she silently agreed.

"And, I've said it before, he's a prisoner." Thinking fast, she said, "ok, both quick cases. I'll take Vince, you can take Michael."

Ignoring the delegation of task, Katie continued. "From what I hear, he wont be a prisoner for long. Looks like by Friday Mr. Scofield will be heading out of Fox River for good."

Katie and Sara had come a long way together. Being in the minority in a prison, females tended to stick together. Although they never got too personal, they had a good understanding, common respect, and a fantastic professional relationship. They were more than colleagues.

Katie had also noticed Sara's interest in Michael Scofield. Alarming as it initially was, she knew Sara wouldn't do anything to endanger herself or her reputation. But having said that, she had to admit that Michael Scofield was one handsome specimen. Ordinarily, that would mean squat when the man in question was doing five years for armed robbery. But it seemed like Scofield was a good guy after all. And he may be perfect for her friend.

Testing the waters, she candidly said, "You used to like him-" at Sara's look of disapproval, Katie amended her statement and continued, "you used to take a keen interest in his wellbeing, but ever since the Lincoln Burrows trial, you seemed to have kept your distance. I know you used to look forward to checking in with Michael when you saw him daily, but now you ask me to administer."

On a whim she added, "And let me tell you, the man asks about you everyday." Smiling, she allowed a second to pass. "Why are you hiding Sara?"

_Why was she hiding?_ The same thing Michael asked her yesterday.

Sara wondered over to the window where Michael had stood the day before. Looking out at the prison walls, she felt utterly spent. "Kate, it's complicated. Can we leave it at that?" Sara pleaded.

"Can you? Can you leave it at that? Look, I don't want to pry and I'm not advocating a prisoner/doctor relationship. You know me better than that. But I am saying that there seems to be more to this case than what meets the eye. You're avoiding him Sara. And it appears to me that he comes up here everyday hoping to catch a look at you, but having to deal with me."

She walked over to her friend, and touched her shoulder, forcing her to look at her. "And we both know I'm not near as pretty or have as good a bedside manner!"

Sara appreciated Katie's concern, but she needed to think about this. And now was not the time. "Thanks for worrying about me. But this is something I need to sort out on my own."

Katie could sense the turmoil inside of Sara, so she didn't push. She was a smart girl. She was sure she'd figure it out.

"I'll take Scofield, you take Jones?"

Sara smiled. "Thanks." And in a spontaneous show of affection, she hugged Katie briefly. "You're an angel."

Katie returned her impromptu embrace and murmured, "I don't think Michael Scofield will be seeing any of my angelic qualities."

They both laughed as they went to attend to their respective patients.

Katie veered into exam room one and there stood her charge, waiting somewhat impatiently. Upon her entrance, Michael whipped around. Realising who it was, or rather who it wasn't, he closed his eyes briefly, clenched his jaw in frustration and breathed out slowly.

"Katie, we meet again."

_He has it bad_, thought Katie.

"Yes, Mr. Scofield. Good day to you too. Shall we make this quick?" At Michael's nod, she prepped his shot. "How are you feeling today? No headaches? Nausea?"

Michael had been feeling off kilter for the last couple days, but he assumed it was the stress associated with the trial and a certain doctor.

"I'm fine," he said. As he said that though, he felt a wave of dizziness hit him. He braced his arm on the gurney, and swayed slightly to the right. His body flushed, and his brow beaded with sweat.

_Woah,_ he thought. _What the hell?_

"Michael, you ok?" Katie, who missed nothing, saw the sway and helped steady him. "Careful. You sure about that fine?" She raised an eyebrow as she waited for an answer.

Michael had an idea of what was happening. The Pugnac and the Insulin were finally taking its toll. When he'd spoken to Linc on Sunday, he wanted to mention it, but with Lincoln coming down on him for still taking the insulin blocker, he decided it was best to rather keep it quiet for now.

Not being able to tell Katie any of this, he said, "Overworked. P.I. was hell today."

Katie looked sceptical, and after taking his pulse and blood pressure, seemed to suspect something was amiss.

"Some tests tomorrow Mr. Scofield. Your blood pressure is slightly elevated, and your pulse is racing."

_Definitely_ the Pugnac, Michael thought. _Classic symptoms of overexposure. Dammit_, he thought he would have more time.

"Nothing that a good nights sleep wont fix," he said as she inserted the needle. "Tomorrow, I'll be the usual ray of sunshine." Katie found herself on the receiving end of the Scofield charm.

"Nice try Michael," but she grinned in spite of herself. "I'm recommending a full blood work up for tomorrow. In the meantime, I'm taking you off P.I."

"Katie, please. I'm fine. Besides, P.I. gives me something else to do besides lie in a cell all day."

Remembering Sara's feelings on inactive prisoners, she relented. "Ok, P.I, but I want you back here after lunch." At his nod, she continued, "Alright, we're through."

As Michael walked towards the door, he turned and asked, "Seeing that I'm having a full work up tomorrow, I'm assuming Dr. Tancredi will be attending to me?"

Katie felt a pang of sympathy. "Dr. Tancredi wont be in for the next few days. One of the other nurses on call will see you."

What she didn't say was the Sara would not be on days, but be on nights. He didn't need to know that, although the romantic in her thought.. _What?_ Katie chuckled to herself. Michael Scofield may be on the threshold of being a free man, but that didn't give him any special privileges, and it certainly didn't mean he would be able to have a romantic rendezvous with Sara after hours. Jotting down her recommendations on Michael's file, she checked the room for any errant paperwork and headed out.

Michael left the room resigned. She took leave! Just to escape dealing with him, she took off work! Perfect. All he wanted to do was explain, apologise.. Despite wanting to kick something in frustration, Michael had to use all his strength and focus to reach his cell without alarming the guard. The dizziness was back.

_This is not good_, Michael thought as he dropped onto his cot.

_Sucre_

Fernando Sucre lay on his cot, waiting for his cellmate to return from the infirmary. As far as he knew, Mike had no business being up there, at least not anymore. But that was his beef. He was used to Mike doing things without any explanation.

Despite their differences, they had become close friends in the time they spent at Fox River. And while Michael may be facing the possibility of life outside, he still had time to do. The clink of keys, signalling the return of an inmate, had Sucre sitting up. Mike was back.

However, spotting the look on Michael's face when he entered the cell, he knew something was up. His cellie was pale and sweaty. Mike was a pretty white boy. And he didn't sweat easily. When the cell slammed shut, he jumped from his cot and faced his cellmate.

"Yo, Mike, what's up with you Papi? You look like you ran a marathon instead of visiting the Doc."

Michael couldn't answer. In the recesses of his mind he heard Sucre call him again.

"Mike? Mike?!" He felt nausea swell in his stomach and rise up his throat as darkness threatened to claim him.

_Dammit, this was not good at all!_


	7. Chapter 7

"Shit! Fish, what the hell's going on?" Sucre was frantic.

Michael was writhing in agony; his breath released in short gasps, trying to stay conscious.

Sucre began pacing. "Ooh, what to do, what to do.. think Fernando.." Sucre rapped the side of his head with his closed fists.

He looked back at Michael. "Mike, dammit, _what's going on?_" He whispered urgently. He crouched next to the cot and forced Michael to look at him.

"Shit!" Michael's complexion was white as a sheet. In the 10 minutes he had been lying there, the skin under his eyes had turned purple, and so had his lips. He was still sweating and his skin was pasty. Sucre said a silent prayer and crossed his body. He was visibly shaken.

"I'm calling the boss, you need meds! Sucre made a move to leave, but Michael's hand shot out.

"Sucre, no! Wait!"

"No?! No?! Fish, have you looked in the mirror man? You look like death!" he whispered vehemently.

"Sucre," Michael attempted to sit up. Failing miserably, he looked Sucre in the eye, "Please. I'll be fine. I just need to relax for a little while." He tried to smile. Michael knew the chances of him being fine were slim, but how the hell did he attempt to explain what was happening to him?

Sucre looked indecisive. "I don't want no cellie dying on me man! Chances are, the CO's will try to pin it on me!" He started pacing again.

"And I have Maricruz to think about, and our baby." He crouched down in front of Michael again. "You sure about this Fish?" He looked positively ill too.

If Michael had been feeling better, he would have laughed. Not being able to, he tried to reassure Sucre instead. "I just need some sleep ok? I'll be fine in the morning."

Sucre looked about to protest, and then changed his mind.

"Ok?" Michael pressed, waiting for his friend's affirmation.

"Ok. Get some sleep Mike." He muttered, and climbed into his own bunk. "And don't you die on me!" he added as he lay down.

Michael's body was beginning to settle. The nausea had abated and the dizziness was gone. He had a monster headache, but believed he could sleep it off. He concentrated on his breathing.

A few more days, that's all I need.

An hour later, sleep finally managed to claim him.

_Sucre_

_This was not good_, he thought. Michael looked bad. He had to trust that he knew what he was doing. Listening intently for any sign of discomfort, he heard nothing but Michael's labour-intensive breathing. He seemed to be concentrating on keeping it slow and steady. At least he wasn't expiring on him! 

Sucre leaned down and checked on Michael. Yeah, his chest was still rising and falling. He lay back down. Sharing a cell with Michael was worse than a heart attack. In fact, it may cause _him _to expire!

Sucre tried to relax and think about more pleasant things. Maricruz's face danced before his closed eyes. He smiled. Aaah, she was so beautiful. The only woman he'd ever truly loved, he thought, and they were going to be a family.

After she had learned that Hector was the one to rat him out to cops, she had dumped his ass for good. Sucre could understand why she had sought the comfort Hector could provide. But he was determined to pay his dues, and play it straight. He would do right by her and their child.

It was during a particularly heated dream of Maricruz that Sucre was awakened by Michael's moaning. For a moment, he was disorientated and had forgotten about the episode a couple hours before. Looking at his watch, he noticed that he had been asleep for less than four hours, it was nearing 01.30 am.

"Fish, quit your moaning man!"

No response.

Michael kept thrashing. Memories of the hours before flooded back and Sucre jumped to the ground, trying to get a look at Michael in the dark. He stretched out his hand, attempting to touch him.

"Mike?" Sucre made contact with Michael's arm, and almost jumped. "Shit! Mike, you're burning up!" Sucre touched his arm again, and ran his hand lightly over Michael's torso. He was soaking wet. He shook Michael slightly.

"Mike? Mike, can you hear me?"

No response. Shit!

Michael kept moaning, and his body was shaking like someone who was extremely cold, yet he was burning hotter than hell. Sucre made a decision. His friend needed help, and he needed it now. He knew Michael didn't want him to call for anyone, but he wasn't about to watch him die.

Sucre squeezed Michael's arm. In the dark, he couldn't see anything; just make out Michael's silhouette.

"Hang in there bro" Rushing to the entrance of the cell, he yelled, "Boss! Boss! My cellie's not looking too good!"

After several shouts, other inmates started getting annoyed and started shouting at him to shut up. Sucre continued. "Yo Boss! My cellie needs to go to the med wing!"

The compound was flooded with light. There was more moaning as inmates were disrupted. Finally CO Geary hunkered up the stairs to their cell.

"What's the problem Sucre? You boys not messing around up here are you? Let me warn ya, if this is a prank, it's a week in the SHU; for both of ya!"

"No prank Boss. Mike's not doing too well!"

"Out of the way Sucre, let me have a look."

The CO tried to get a better look through the bars, but all he could make out was the shaking and he could hear Michael moaning. He unlocked the door and ordered Sucre to stand outside and wait. Nearing the bed, he felt goose bumps rise on his arms.

What in God's name?

Whatever he had been expecting, it was not what was before him. Scofield was lying in a pool of sweat, his skin was yellow, his eyes and lips a bluish purple. A tiny rivulet of blood was trickling from his nose.

"Sucre! Get your ass in here! Help me lift him. He needs to get to the infirmary." The CO looked alarmed. "PRONTO!"

Between the two of them, they managed to lift Michael and practically had to drag him all the way to the medical facility.

Geary shouted to his partner as they hurried by, "Call the infirmary and give the Doc on call a heads-up. We have a problem!"

The phone on her desk rang, startling her and breaking the silence in the entire wing. Sara had just completed her final check on the three patients in the ward, and was looking forward to relaxing.

Speaking into the handset, "Dr. Tancredi," the rushed speech of one of the CO's greeted her.

"Doc, incoming patient from A-Wing. Looks bad."

Sara replaced the receiver. There were hundreds of prisoners in A-Wing, she told herself. Then why did she suddenly feel lead drop into the pit of her stomach?

"Michael?" she whispered as she rushed to the entrance of the infirmary. Her gut told her something was dreadfully wrong.

Michael

Lights. Lots of lights were all around him, leaving his vision blinded by them. It was like everything was speeding up. The lights; white, blue, red, yellow, they streaked by like comets in a multicoloured sky. He felt like he was flying, rushing through the air at high speed and yet oddly it seemed like all around him things were happening in slow motion too.

He wondered. 

Michael's head was spinning. And there were all these voices. Mangled and mixed, he tried hard to discern their owners. Later he would recognize them as Sucre's and CO Geary's. One voice, feminine, was shouting orders.

Sara?

Michael tried to focus, but his heart was beating so fast, he couldn't catch a breath. Her face swam before him. He tried to call her name, but very little sound escaped. He felt her take his hand. His senses knew her.

"Michael?" he heard her call him. It sounded so far away. Her voice was anxious, a tinge of panic in it.

"Michael, can you hear me?"

He wanted to alleviate her concern, so he tried to say her name. All that came out was a choked, "Sara- ?"

He tried to squeeze their linked fingers, but he wasn't sure he had the strength. He must have succeeded because he felt her squeeze back gently.

"That's right. It's me, its Sara. Stay with me Michael. Stay with me.."

Those were the last words he heard before darkness claimed him.

Sara

Running toward the entrance of the medical wing, she was greeted by the doors slamming open. Fernando Sucre and CO Geary was dragging a limp Michael into the wing. For a moment, she went blank.

_He's dead_, she thought. 

Gesturing to the nearby gurney, Sucre and Geary deposited Michael onto the bed.

"Get him to exam room four!" Sara ordered. Jogging alongside the bed, she checked his pulse. He was breathing! She started to breathe again too. But, his heart rate was erratic, and his temperature seemed to be soaring.

_Something is very wrong here_, she thought. 

Putting her personal fears aside, she knew she had to get it together, or she would be of no use to him.

Calling to the nurse on duty with her, "Louise, prep exam four. As a precaution, get me 500ml of B+, the crash cart on standby and some O2 stat!" As an afterthought, she called, "And get me Michael's file. Maybe Katie noted something this afternoon."

Moving her attention back to him, she noticed that he looked like death warmed over. His face was pale and sweaty. Blood trickled sporadically from his nose and ran down his face. Touching his clammy cheek she almost cried. His beautiful face was tinged with various shades of purple hues.

She took his right hand in hers, lacing their fingers. "Michael?" she called. "Michael, can you hear me?"

He seemed to want to say something but could only whisper her name. She felt him squeeze her hand. It was weak, very weak, but he was still alive.

_What happend here?_ she thought. 

At least he recognized her; that was a good sign. "That's right. It's me, its Sara. Stay with me Michael. Stay with me.." As she said that though, he passed out. His breathing was still very laboured.

Its better this way, she thought. I'll be able to focus, and whatever pain he is in will be alleviated.

As they wheeled him into the exam room, she dismissed the CO, but called to Sucre. "Fernando, did he take anything? Any substance.. did he ingest anything.. anything that could have caused this?" she asked urgently.

Noting his discomfort, she pulled him off to the side, and whispered in a low but urgent tone, "This is not the time to mess around. If you know something that could save his life, you have got to tell me! I don't care about the legal implications this could pose for either of you right now. I need to do my job and I cannot do it effectively if I don't have all the facts!"

Sucre looked at the Doc. He'd never seen her like this. She was spitting fire.

"I don't know what's up Doc, I swear. When he came from the infirmary this afternoon, he was looking like hell. I wanted to get him back up here, but he said he just needed to sleep it off." Sucre looked towards the exam room. His friend was lying behind those doors. Sucre swallowed.

Sara didn't look convinced. "Is there _anything _else Fernando?" she said urgently.

Sucre shifted uncomfortably. Whatever the outcomes for himself, Mike had risked a lot for all of them. In fact, he'd put himself on the line for Sucre many a time.

He took a deep breath and said, "All I know is he's been taking Pugnac." At her baffled look, he continued, "It's an insulin blo-"

"I know what it is," she said impatiently, "why has he been taking it? He's a type one diabetic!"

Sucre chickened out under her intense stare. "I ur.. suggest you call his brother. Linc would be able to answer all your questions."

Sucre waited a moment before asking, "Is he going to be ok?"

Sara cursed. She couldn't allow emotion to intervene right now. Despite her resolve, the eyes that met Sucre's were vulnerable as she murmured, "I don't know. Until I get the facts, I don't know."

Leaving Sucre standing at the entrance to the exam room, she snapped on her latex gloves and got to work. Looking at her assistant, "Louise, get Lincoln Burrows on the line asap!"

The telephone was ringing. Surfacing from sleep, Lincoln turned his head and looked at the clock. The digital dial displayed 01.45.

Who was calling at this hour?

Veronica stirred beside him as he reached for the receiver.

"Hello?" His voice was thick with sleep.

"Lincoln?" Without waiting for confirmation, Sara continued. Her words were coming out fast. "This is Sara Tancredi from Fox Riv-"

Lincoln was immediately alert. He knew Sara would not call him if it weren't urgent. And in this case, there was only one person they had in common.

Sitting up, he interrupted her, "Dr. Tancredi. Michael?"

"Lincoln, Michael is having an attack of some sort. He was admitted to the infirmary about 15 minutes ago. I'm going to be frank. If there are any reasons that you know of, anything at all that can be causing this attack, I need you to tell me now. And before you ask, Fernando Sucre advised me to call you with specific reference to Michael and Pugnac."

Lincoln thought she had run out of steam, but she continued. "Your brother's records indicate that he is a diabetic. I have been administering insulin shots daily, for the duration of his incarceration. Why is he taking Pugnac? I did an insulin test after suspecting misdiagnosis soon after he arrived at Fox River; it concluded that he was definitely insulin dependant."

Taking a minute to assimilate what he had just heard, Lincoln's mind began to race.

This was exactly what he'd been afraid of! The damned Pugnac and insulin were working against each other.

Misunderstanding his silence and taking it as a sign of not cooperating, she continued, "Lincoln, please. Your brother is very ill at the moment, and I need to know why he was taking Pugnac so I can treat him. This is vitally important."

Veronica touched Lincoln's shoulder. From the two words Lincoln had spoken and his stunned silence, she gathered enough to know something was wrong. Meeting Lincoln's concerned gaze, she got out of bed and switched on the lights.

"I'll wake LJ."

As Veronica dashed out of the room, she heard Lincoln explain, "Dr. Tancredi, I don't think this was the way Michael wanted you to find out about this."

"Lincoln, frankly, there isn't much time. Want me to find out what? What's going on?"

Rubbing his forehead, Lincoln said, "This story is more complex. And I sense there isn't time to go into deep explanations. In a nutshell, you know we were planning to escape via the infirmary. Michael needed access to the infirmary in order to corrode the pipes inside, so that we could have accessed the room from below."

Impatiently, Sara said, "Yes, I know all this. But he's diabetic so-" A light bulb went on.

Flash

To the day she did the insulin test on Michael. He had been nervous and sweaty. She'd asked him why he seemed so nervous, but he'd made a quip about hating needles. She had known there was something amiss. She just couldn't put her finger on it.

Oh my God!

Coming back to the present, she heard Lincoln still talking. "..Michael didn't have a reason to get access to the infirmary everyday. So he claimed he was diabetic."

Lincoln took a moment before saying, "he had to make you believe that he needed the shots so that he could corrode the pipes from inside the room." He knew this couldn't be easy for her to hear. "He took the Pugnac as an insulin blocker. I think you would understand the physiological implications better than I could attempt to explain."

Sara was stunned. Her eyes burnt with the pressure of suppressed tears. Whatever she had imagined as a possible scenario, this.. this floored her. Putting her personal feelings on hold for now, her mind started working as to how Michael may be treated.

Lincoln's voice brought her back from her thoughts.

"Dr. Tancredi, how bad is it?"

"Now that I know what I'm dealing with, not as grave as a few moments ago. I've got to go. Thank you for your time," She added, already distracted.

Lincoln was pulling on his pants as he spoke, "Just so you know, I'm on my way." Hearing Veronica furiously rumble through her cupboard, and spotting LJ streak past their bedroom door, he amended, "All three of us."

Knowing that it would be useless to attempt to dissuade him, she just said, "I'll alert security so that there will be no hassles getting you signed in."

"Thanks."

The call ended.

Sara leaned her head against the wall and clutched the receiver to her chest. Breathing deeply, she clamped her lips in an effort to prevent the telltale wobble.

Get it together Sara!

She had a job to do right now. When that was done, there would be more than enough time to rehash this evening's revelations. Wiping a hand across her eyes, she straightened her spine and headed to the exam room.

"Louise, 10 cc's of triglucosite, 5mls of penephram and an iv push."

"We know what the problem is then?" Louise enquired as she hurried past Sara, not really waiting for an answer as she went to get the required meds.

Sara walked over to Michael's bedside and just took a minute to look at him. He was hooked up to a ventilator to help him breathe and the various monitors were beeping rhythmically.

Despite his vulnerable position, she would have liked nothing better than to bash the side of his head.

He purposefully endangered his life, and continued to take the agent even after his release seemed eminent. Compassion and anger did battle within her. While he was bedridden, she couldn't help but feel more compassion. But her anger simmered close to the surface.

_You, Michael Scofield have a lot to answer for, _she thought. _And this time, I'm going to listen, and you… you are going to answer for everything.._

* * *

**AN: The "medical terms" for Michael's condition, triglucosite and penephram are purely fictional.**


	8. Chapter 8

Tuesday morning had arrived. Sara didn't even notice. It had been a night filled with anxiety and worry. Sitting in her office, she looked at the clock. 7am. It felt like an eternity had passed since she had started her shift the night before.

She had a meeting with Warden Pope in 15 minutes, needing to apprise him of Michael's condition. Looking at the report she had just completed, she hoped she knew what she was doing. Changing a medical report was a serious matter. In this case however, she was going out on a limb.

Sara groaned. _What fork in the road lead me to this place?_

Michael was sedated at present, and resting peacefully. Without being able to speak to him and get the answers she needed, she knew it was not a good idea to let the Warden know the real reasons for his sudden respiratory attack. Lincoln had told her the same thing when he arrived at Fox River a couple hours before.

Recalling their discussion, Sara again felt the weariness seep into her bones. She was tired and needed a relaxing bath. But that was not to happen, not yet anyway.

Taking a moment, she recalled her conversation with Michael's brother.

After ending her call with Lincoln, she had checked Michael's vital signs and administered the required drugs. He seemed to be responding, as his blood pressure had returned to normal and his blood sugar levels had stabilised. Despite that, his respiratory system was still laboured and she feared he might crash.

There was nothing to do but wait and it was while studying his charts – a guise for being able to hold a personal vigil by his bedside – that Lincoln, Veronica and Lincoln's son, Lincoln Jnr, entered the emergency unit. It was the second time that evening that the eerie silence of the wing was broken by the clatter of doors being thrust open.

Lincoln spotted her immediately and entered the ward.

"Doctor, is he ok?" He asked this as he moved to Michael's bedside.

Looking at Michael, iv pushed into his veins, hooked up to the ventilator, Sara had to admit that his condition looked a lot scarier than it was in reality. Veronica was pale as she joined Lincoln at Michael's bedside. LJ, the awkward teenager stood beside his father, hands thrust into his pockets.

"Sara, how is he?" Veronica asked.

Moving to the bedside, she faced the trio. "The last few hours have been a race against time. I must admit that I had no idea what to make of his symptoms. Without getting too technical, due to the prolonged exposure to the insulin, Michael's body was basically confused because it didn't know what the accurate insulin/blood sugar levels were supposed to be. While his body was trying to regulate itself, he kept on taking the Pugnac, shutting down his body's natural responses. Pugnac is a foreign agent, and after prolonged use, the body rejects it. Even long-term type one sufferers don't use it for long. They are usually changed to a different drug for permanent usage. I'm assuming he chose to use Pugnac as it is a standard over-the-counter drug?"

"Michael thought we would be out of here soon, within weeks if all his plans went our way. That never happened, and so he kept on taking it." Lincoln said.

Speaking for the first time, LJ's troubled gaze met Sara's as he asked, "And his recovery?" Gesturing to the various pipes and tubes, "this looks serious."

Sara took a minute to take in the obvious concern for Michael radiating from his family. "It looks a lot worse than it is… Lincoln Jnr?" Sara asked tentatively, not sure what to call him.

Sara realised that under normal circumstances, she would have been highly amused when both adults and the teenager said simultaneously, "LJ."

Hiding her amusement, she continued, "LJ, we have him hooked up to an iv; its nourishing his body. The other drips are feeding him the required dosages of the medications needed to stabilise his system. My main concern is his breathing. It's still laboured. I'm going to be keeping him here for observation. He's currently on pain killers, and should sleep through most of the day." Lincoln nodded and took a seat at his brother's bedside.

"I told him to stop taking the damned Pugnac," he muttered.

Having her own thoughts with regards to that statement, Sara thought it best to make her exit. Sensing the family needed some time alone, and she excused herself.

"I'll leave you to sit with him."

After a minute, Veronica left Lincoln's side, intending to chat with Sara, leaving Lincoln and LJ alone with Michael.

LJ was the first to break the silence. "He's going to be ok right?"

Looking at his son, Lincoln was never more ashamed than in that moment. He had not been there for many of his LJ's most trying years. Lisa was dead, and now they were thrust together, needing to be a family, needing to be each other's support. In many ways, they were only starting to learn about each other. Getting to know one another as a father and son should.

Lincoln loved his son, and marvelled everyday at the man he was bound to become. He knew where LJ's question was coming from. His son had lost more people close to him than anyone should have to. And he was still only a teenager. Turning to LJ, he looked at the boy. Tall and skinny, he looked like the average teenager. Hair tossed fashionably carelessly, scruffy jeans, and T-Shirt. Despite being lean, he definitely showed promise of being every inch as solidly built as his father.

"He's going to be fine LJ. Michael's a fighter. And the Doc seems confident too." Looking at his shoes, LJ just nodded.

"Hey.." Talking his son's arm and forcing him to look at him, Lincoln said, "Mike's going to pull through. And he's going to be out of here on Friday."

Taking a moment, he added, "I know this last couple months, hell, years, have been hard on you. When your mother and I split, you were the one who suffered. With me getting caught up in this cover-up, you've had to endure so much more than anyone your age should have had to deal with. I can never apologise enough for what you've been put through, but I can promise that I will always be here for you. From this day, forever." LJ bit his lip to keep back his tears.

Lincoln remembered what Michael seemed to be dead set on doing. He needed to do the same. "I promise you, I will make amends for everything. Even if it takes me a lifetime."

Pulling his son into his embrace, Lincoln whispered. "I've never been more proud of you, LJ. I love you. Don't you ever forget that."

LJ returned his fathers embrace. "I love you too Dad."

Smiling to herself, Veronica closed the door to the room silently and headed toward the reception area. It pleased her greatly to see their relationship progress. It would take time to heal their wounds, but they would get there.

Spotting Sara, she asked, "Sara, how does this affect Michael's release on Friday? Do you think he'll be out of it for long?"

Looking up from jotting some notes onto Michael's file, she turned to Veronica and said, "I don't believe it should cause a major hiccup. He's strong and otherwise healthy so he should make a full recovery."

With an encouraging smile, she continued. "With that said, he will be a little weak. Push comes to shove; he'll be spending his last days at Fox River in the medical wing."

Veronica looked relieved. "Thanks Sara. It's a miracle you were here." Looking slightly confused, she said, "I wasn't aware that you worked nights here as well. Must be draining."

"I don't – usually," a rueful smile, "but something came up with the usual night staff and I was roped in to help out."

Veronica nodded in understanding before adding quietly, "it's a good thing you were here then. Thank you for taking care of him."

Sara's eyes moved in the direction of the ward where Michael lay. Her breath came out in a rush.

"Seems like I'm always the clean-up crew," she murmured, recalling an earlier conversation when Michael had told her the same thing.

Speaking to Veronica, she said, "He had me going for a while there." The two women stood in a companionable silence for a minute.

Turning to Veronica, she asked, "Did you know? About the breakout, about all the plans, why Michael decided to get himself into-" Sara gestured to the building "this place?"

Veronica knew this would come. Rightfully, Michael was the one who needed to answer her questions. But she saw the anger and the vulnerability in her eyes, and decided to answer truthfully.

"No. I didn't. When Michael held up that bank, I was in shock. I've known them, Michael and Lincoln for years. I knew Michael was incapable of violence. Yet there I was in court, trying to defend a client and friend, who showed me every inclination of wanting to be in prison. It scared me," she admitted.

"I begged him to tell me what he was planning. He wouldn't. When I found out he had requested his sentence to be carried out at Fox River, I knew it must have something to do with Lincoln. I came here to plead with Lincoln to call him off, he wouldn't, and also would not divulge what Michael was doing in here."

"Comes back to the guilt?" Sara asked as she sighed. Her tone hinted at frustration and emotional upheaval.

"Yes." Sensing the latent anger, Veronica said, "I'm sorry you had to find out about the Pugnac this way. I know Michael wanted to tell you, but he didn't know how. Things also seemed to be happening so fast. With Lincoln's trial.."

In a flash of anger, Sara snapped, "Veronica, I saw him everyday. _Everyday_," she enunciated. "Really, you don't have to make excuses for him. There was ample opportunity. What I really don't get is why?! Was it all a game in the end? Did he become addicted to the danger of it all? Why did he keep on taking it? Lincoln was out, he would probably be released as well – as soon as Friday.. a week. That's all. Yet he kept on taking it!" Seeming to have forgotten Veronica was even standing there; Sara buried her hands in her hair and pushed it from her shoulders in frustration.

"And his wife, Nika, where does she fit into all of this? There is so much about him that I don't understand and so little answers forthcoming!" She felt like she was on the verge of tears. She breathed deeply and added softly, "I don't even know why I care."

Veronica was touched. She sensed Sara's turmoil, but knew it was not her place to interfere. Touching Sara on the shoulder, she waited till the other woman looked at her before saying. "Have a little faith. You know what they say, 'time reveals all.' You'll get your answers."

"Well, time is running out. Come Friday, all of this will be a chapter of my life I can think back on with nothing but memories of this mess."

"It's up to you whether those memories are good or bad." Hearing Lincoln and LJ leave the ward and head their way, Veronica added, "Faith Sara. Besides, Michael still needs to make amends.. remember?"

Veronica laughed as Sara's demeanour became conspicuously nervous. "He's a man on a mission. And you saw what lengths he went to when his mission involved Lincoln. You can't avoid him forever."

With an encouraging smile, she turned to greet her fiancée.

"How's he doing?" She asked as she slipped her arm around his waist.

"Still sleeping. At least he's safe up here." Kissing Veronica's temple in a gesture that seemed familiar and automatic, he turned to Sara. "Doctor, something hit me when I was sitting with my brother. Warden Pope.. He's going to want to know what caused the attack. And I don't know how wise it would be to tell him the truth. Things are shaky now, and with Michael's verdict coming up.." he looked concerned.

Sara hadn't given it any thought. She had to admit that telling the Warden the truth about the insulin use would only give rise to more questions about where he got it and about his determination to break his brother out of prison – an illegal activity, but it could be linked to premeditation.

How did I get myself involved in this? Sara asked herself once again.

"I cannot lie about this Lincoln. It's unethical and against everything I believe in."

"But-" before Lincoln could answer, Veronica placed a hand on his chest and forestalled him.

"I know this is difficult for you Sara. And we understand-" Veronica gave Lincoln a look that said, don't we? "you need to do your job. It's ok. If you need to write the report about what happened here, then do so. Michael's case is strong. And chances are this wont even be mentioned at the hearing but merely in passing."

Feeling comforted by the other woman's support, Sara sighed. She knew she couldn't tell the Warden. It would raise too many questions. But she also knew she couldn't lie outright.

"Thank you for understanding. I know if the Warden finds out things could potentially get a little sticky. I'm not promising anything, but I'll see what I can do."

Sara was startled when she was enveloped in a bear hug. "Thank you Sara." Was that the first time Lincoln had used her first name? It seemed somehow significant. Almost as if a hurdle had been crossed that they hadn't even known was there.

"We'll be back to check on him a little later if that's ok." Lincoln said. Before pulling away, he whispered, "And just so you know, I've changed my mind. My brother is lucky to have you."

Thrown a little off balance, Sara forgot to respond as she watched Lincoln, LJ and Veronica leave the facility.

Coming back to reality, Sara shook her head to clear her thoughts. Checking the clock, she gathered her report and headed towards Michael's room before going to see the Warden. Entering the ward, she noted he was still asleep. He would be for the rest of the day.

She couldn't stop herself from wishing that he would open his eyes anyway, just to make sure he was really all right. Moving closer, she ran her fingers lightly over the back of his hand. He didn't move. About an hour ago he had been removed from the ventilator. The medication seemed to be taking effect and he was breathing on his own, slightly exaggerated, but he was responding well. The healthy colour was also returning to his face, with the awful purple hues almost completely gone. With one last look at the man whose actions confused her so, she headed toward the exit.

"Please have whoever's on duty next page me if there's any change. And get some rest. That was good work earlier," she called to Louise as she exited the infirmary.

Warden Henry Pope's office was situated on the opposite end of the compound. The walk over helped clear the cobwebs from her mind and the weak sunlight and crisp breeze was a welcome distraction as it blew against her face.

Entering the reception area, she noted that Becky, the secretary, was not in yet. Remembering that the rest of the world was only starting their day now, she knocked on the Warden's door and entered.

"Sara! Please do come in." Warden Henry Pope ushered Sara in and motioned for her to take a seat across from him. "Looks like it's been a busy night up in the Med Wing."

Sara nodded. "Yes, Michael Scofield was admitted with symptoms of a respiratory attack." Seeing the Warden's concerned look, Sara continued, "I determined that the attack was brought on by exposure to harsh chemicals, drywall dirt and dust. Working on P.I, I have no doubt Mr. Scofield was in contact with any and all of the variables responsible for the attack."

"On P.I? Are the effects permanent and are any of the other inmates at risk? What's his prognosis? We both know that boy will be heading out of here at the end of the week."

"Prognosis is good. He's resting. I need to monitor his respiratory functioning, so I'm recommending that he remain in Med Wing until he is released on Friday, or at least till his functioning is back to normal. The other inmates working on P.I. don't seem to be adversely affected. I had Louise check their files for similar symptoms, but they seem fine. I have ordered a full workup on their next physicals."

Sara hated lying to the Warden. The damned condition had nothing to do with any of the other inmates on P.I.

_More work for all of us_, she thought. _And another thing to blame you for Scofield!_

The Warden nodded and said, "Sounds good. Excellent work Sara." Getting up from his chair, he made his way around the desk and helped Sara to her feet.

"Now, you pack up and head on home. You're dead on your feet. I understand you're on nights?" At Sara's nod, he continued, "Well then, get some rest Doctor."

Getting rest however, seemed to be a fruitless exercise. Sara wandered around her apartment aimlessly, watching her beeper - just in case she missed an emergency call.

She knew she was being ridiculous, and willed herself to get some rest, but only fell asleep when she turned to face the origami flower on her nightstand. Even in sleep, he occupied her thoughts. Waking a couple hours later, she ate something and headed back to Fox River to begin her nightshift.

_Michael_

Waking up to peace and quiet was a new experience for Michael. Being in prison meant that nothing was your own. Not your time, not your environment, nothing. Your days were regulated by the prison roster. You woke up and went to bed at stipulated times.

Looking around, he noticed the reason for the silence. He was in the med wing. A nurse must have been waiting for him to awake because one immediately came into the room.

"Back to the land of the living Mr. Scofield? You've been out for the entire day. How are you feeling?"

Michael was surprised at the length of time he had spent asleep. "Entire day?"

"About 15hrs or so. The Doctor administered some strong painkillers. You needed the rest."

He felt mildly groggy, but otherwise fine. His breathing also seemed much better. The events of the night before played before him like a movie. Some of it was in focus, others a bit blurry. He remembered Sucre's voice, CO Geary – they brought him into the infirmary.

_What else?_

_Sara?_ Yes, he remembered her asking him to stay with her.. then.. then he was blank.

_Was her presence in his memory a_ _dream?_ Katie had told him she wasn't working. _So what was she doing in the infirmary last night?_

Thinking about Sara made him ask, "Dr. Tancredi.. She's still on leave?"

The nurse looked up from checking his iv. "Leave? No. Whatever gave you that idea? She should be in-" she checked her wristwatch, "in the next thirty minutes or so. She's on nights for the next couple days."

"Nights?" Michael choked out. "So she was here last night when I got in?"

The nurse looked at him with an amused expression. "It seems to me like you're not too clear on what happened this morning?" she asked.

Seeing the blank look on his face, she said, "Dr. Tancredi was on duty when you were admitted after 1am sometime. So was I. I'm Louise by the way. You gave us quiet the scare for a minute there."

Michael's mind was racing. _She's coming in_. She was going to be here in thirty minutes and he was in dire need of a shower.

_Great going Michael.. you're about to come clean with the most amazing woman you've ever met and you smell like a pit._

Louise's voice broke into his thoughts, "I'm getting you something to eat, and then Dr. Tancredi should be in to check your vital signs."

Thinking fast, Michael said, "Urm.. Louise right?" At the nurse's raised eye-brow, he smiled broadly and asked, "How about we skip dinner for now, and you help me get to the bathroom so I can get cleaned up?"

I can't have the most important conversation of my life looking like death and smelling like it too!

It took all the charisma he possessed, but within fifteen minutes he was in the shower while Louise went about getting his dinner ordered.

It was back in bed, eating the meagre fare when Dr. Sara Tancredi walked in on her patient..


	9. Chapter 9

Sara sat at her desk doing really menial tasks for at least twenty minutes. She had checked on the other patients in the ward, dallied on their charts for much longer than necessary and could muster no other excuse as to why she should not go and check on Michael. Getting up from her desk, she crossed to the mirror on the wall behind the door and stared at herself.

Her hair, a deep red, shone with health and hung around her shoulders in shiny copper waves. Her skin was smooth and at the moment had a flushed look – something she could only attribute to the impending meet with a certain inmate. She touched her cheeks, attempting to cool them with her cold hands. It wasn't working. Disgusted with the lack of control she had over her own body, she cast one last look at herself, grabbed Michael's file and headed toward his room.

_Sara  
_She tried, she really did. But for some reason, the butterflies wouldn't go away. They just fluttered, causing her anxiety levels to soar. The smile she aimed at Louise lacked enthusiasm as she passed her in reception enroute to Michael's room. The last thing she expected to see was Michael, looking much better, wolfing down his supper. He hadn't noticed her and so she took a minute to study him.

The Doctor in her noticed that his skin colour had returned to normal, he still had the iv in, so that meant that precautionary measures were still being taken to ensure the proper nutrients were entering his system.

The woman in her noticed that he had an intense air of concentration around him. He was frowning, deep in thought it seemed, as he distractedly ate his supper. Wearing a grey long sleeved sweater, he looked warm and comfortable. She must have made a sound because his head snapped up, his facial expression intense as he locked eyes with her. Her body flushed.

_Michael_  
Having raced against time to make himself presentable, Michael was anything but happy to have himself hooked up to the tubes again. But he counted his blessings that he had been able to convince Louise to break routine and allow him some time to clean up. She had brought in his supper after he'd gotten back. It was while eating it that he started to ponder his ever-complex relationship with Sara.

She was so distant of late, but whether he was being a fool or not, he took comfort in the fact that she had to care – at least a little. He recalled very little about what brought him to the infirmary, but he did recall her presence, and the worry she could not have disguised from her voice. No matter what, she did care, but he also knew that it was the fact that she cared that could ultimately make things even harder to resolve.

He frowned. There was so much he needed to explain to her. Sometimes he wished he had taken the time to do so earlier. A movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention and, still wearing the frown, he stared straight at the object of his restless thoughts.

Sara, embarrassed at having been caught starring, entered the small room.

"Hello. Feeling better I see?" She managed to make it sound like a question.

Michael placed the remnants of his meal on the table next to the bed and focused on her. This was it, the moment they had both been waiting for. He kept it light.

"Yeah." He smiled. "Still around to fight another day."

She didn't smile back. Instead, she checked his vitals on the monitor and walked to the foot of the bed, making notes on his chart. After what really was two minutes of silence, only it felt like two years with the only sound the scraping her pen was making as it glided across the sheets of paper in his folder, Michael decided that things were going nowhere slowly.

"So.. you know about the Pugnac?" He winced a little at the look she sent his way. Those eyes were cool, very cool.

"The Pugnac, yes, it seems getting you to tell me anything takes almost getting yourself killed." She snapped the folder shut and placed both her hands on the trolley at the foot of his bed. "Why didn't you trust me enough to tell me? Why? I'm your doctor! When you were admitted last night, I thought you were dead!" At this point, her voice had risen by a few decibels, but she wasn't shouting – yet.

Michael attempted to interrupt. "Sara-"

But she would have nothing of it. She lifted her brow to silence him. "No! Not a word." Slowly, as if she was enunciating every syllable, she continued, "Dead Michael. Do you have any idea what went through my mind at that point? Then to discover that you weren't dead, but I had no idea how to treat you. If it wasn't for Fernando-"

There was a brief knock and the door to the room was opened. Louise's head popped in.

"Hi Dr. Tancredi."

Louise was astute enough to feel the tension when she entered. Collecting Michael's discarded dinner, she faced Sara before leaving.

"A call came in from A-Wing. Two inmates got into a little tussle. They're in Ad Seg. Nothing major, they need a couple of stitches each." Looking pointedly at Sara, "I'm heading down to take care of it. The boys in the wards have completed their dinners and are in the process of bedding down for the night. Next ward round is in three hours at twenty-two hundred hours."

Looking briefly at Michael, she added, "I should be back in an hour." And with that, she left. They both listened to her receding footsteps, knowing that she was giving then an hour alone - uninterrupted.

As if they hadn't been interrupted, Sara continued, almost hissing, "If it wasn't for Fernando, you could have died. Died! Is that what it would need to take to make you trust me?" Rethinking the last bit, she said, "Trust anyone?"

To cover her telling words, she added, "And you kept taking the drug even after the 'mission'/breakout-" at his wince said, "whatever, was over?!"

"Sara-," Michael sobered and got tongue-tied. And frustrated, which in turn made his voice heated.

_Where the hell do I begin anyway?_

"We need to talk about all of this." He sighed. "I need to tell you the truth, but I can't when you won't listen," he stressed.

"Do you think this is easy for me?" she snapped back. "My God Michael, I crossed so many lines here, with you, with this impossible, crazy situation." She gestured to the air between the two of them. "Professional, personal, ethical."

"So listening to me will do what? It certainly can't make anything worse!" he said as she turned away and walked to glance out the window.

"It may make me realise that I'm in a greater moral dilemma than I thought," she whispered under her breath.

Out loud she said, "worse for whom?" Looking back at Michael, she asked, "Did you come to Fox River with the sole intention of using me? Did you come here, knowing who I was, what I did for a living, what I've done in the past?" And as if she couldn't stand it anymore, she asked, "the Pugnac?!"

The way she asked it made Michael want to crawl into a hole and die. But he needed to be honest.

"Yes, I knew who you were."

He saw her jaw tighten, but there was no other indication that what he said had any other effect on her. "And I did come here intending to use everybody. It wasn't personal Sara; it was never supposed to be. All you were supposed to be to me was Governor Tancredi's daughter, Doctor in the infirmary, and a means of entering this very facility. Even after I got to know you, I had to make choices. Do I involve her? Betray her trust?"

Sara was looking out the window again, so he couldn't see her face. He used his voice to convey the depth of his sincerity. "It was one of the hardest things I did asking you to help my brother, knowing that I kept using you everyday."

And so Michael began. He started with the conception of the plan, running over what he had discussed with her previously, right up until the end of Lincoln's trial. She never said a word throughout, just listened. He could feel the tension emanating from her, but besides the occasional glance, she spent most of the time looking either at her hands, or out the window. "And you're right, after Lincoln was released, I didn't need to take the Pugnac." A pause. "But I wanted to.."

"Wanted to?" she asked incredulously.

"I still needed a reason to get into the infirmary." And simply added, "I needed to see you."

Sara's eyes widened slightly at his revelation. "You risked your life bec-" her words trailed off as she shook her head in disbelief.

_Crazy_, she thought.

Clearing her thoughts, she said, "I have to admit, it was an ambitious plan. Everything part of the greater scheme," she added a trifle sarcastically. "And sending your wife to me to steal the infirmary keys? Did you think that would soothe your conscience? Keep it clear?"

Again he tried to speak but she kept going. "Do you have any idea how worried I was when she came to me? Like a fool I thought she cared enough to come to me and ask for help. But that wasn't the case was it? Sara was being put to use again. The sentimental doctor with the need to care for everything that's broken."

"It wasn't like that. At least.. I'm honest when I say that I wanted Nika to do it, because maybe that would have made it feel like less of a betrayal. My mind told me that _I_ wouldn't be stealing it from you, _she_, would. That's how I saw it. But things don't always turn out the way you think they are going to. And feelings can't be willed away. I need you to understand the guilt I felt over what I asked her to do for me."

Michael swung his legs over the side of the bed and faced Sara. With meaning he added, "And there is and never was anything between Nika and myself. I met her a couple days before the escape. I needed her to bring me something, and she needed a green card. It was a business arrangement, nothing more."

Sara was relieved at his admission. But she didn't allow it to show. "She was just another piece of the puzzle. She had a role to play, just like the rest of us."

"It was calculated, yes, but I learnt that in here, things are never what they seem. I was dealing with people, not probabilities, calculations, estimations.. I was dealing with feelings. My own, and those of the people around me. But I started to care Sara." He waited a heartbeat. "About you."

Sara swallowed. She needed to know. "And the day in the infirmary, was that part of your plan too?"

He didn't need her to spell it out; he knew what she was referring to. "It was supposed to be. I needed the key, and I came to you with every intention of taking," at her look he revised his choice of word, "stealing it. And then there you were. I saw this woman who cared about all of these inmates who deserved no better than the pain they had inflicted, a doctor who cared about me, who wanted to do something to help me. And I caught myself saying, and doing," he placed significant emphasis on the doing, "what was in my heart, and not my head."

Michael smiled a little. A small smile. He was not one to go off spouting prose, yet here he was.

Sara didn't seem to notice, although she did move to look at him again.

"I need you to know, that when I kissed you, it was as Michael Scofield the man, and not Michael Scofield the prison inmate or Lincoln Burrows' brother."

Involuntarily, Sara felt tears well in her eyes. It was as if the fight had left her. She looked at him and all he saw were liquid pools full of emotion. It wretched his gut.

She nodded her head in acknowledgement of what he had said. A copper strand fell forward and where the sunlight caressed the lock, it seemed to glow like a lick of fire. "I'm glad," was all she added though.

Michael wanted desperately to touch her, but held off. And like once before, she softly asked, "what do you want from me Michael? I get it. I don't like it, but I get it. But where do I fit in here? You're leaving in a few days. Your life is with Fox River in the past, and this place, it's my future." Her heart was breaking.

Their gazes locked. "I want to know," Michael amended, "I need to know, if there is a chance that you might.. would consent to.. I need to know if there is a chance for us."

It came out in a rush. Michael had never intended to make such a clumsy declaration, and although it may seem like only words to the average person, it was indeed riddled with significance.

A tear had managed to spill over and ran down Sara's cheek but she dashed it away.

His words sent shockwaves through her body. There was joy and elation, and there was hopelessness too.

"What do you feel for me?" she asked.

This time, she moved over to the bed and sat down next to him. Her scent was so familiar. Lillies. Pure, white lilies. But strong, not fragile. Their arms brushed and she felt him heave in a deep breath.

"I know I care about you, a lot. I know that I want the opportunity to put what happened here behind us and see if we're as good together as I know we can be." Michael glanced at her briefly, and then stared straight ahead again.

_This is hard_, he thought. He swallowed.

"I wish I knew what to say." She began.

"Say that you understand." Michael interjected.

She was silent for a long time. "Strangely, I do. I do understand. I don't blame you Michael. Not anymore."

He could hear it. "But?"

She thought for a moment, "But we have to be realistic. No matter what I feel for you, you used-"

Michael latched onto his lifeline, "You feel something for me?"

Sara turned and looked him in the eye. Hers filled up again at the desperation she saw in his.

"I do," she whispered, "feel for you. I don't really know when it happened. You were supposed to be another inmate here, and nothing more, but you charmed your way into my heart and over every barrier I had resurrected." She smiled and let out a little laugh. Somehow their hands had become linked, their fingers entwined.

"But I need time to think. There is so much more to consider here. I'm a doctor, and my integrity as a caregiver could be called into question. It's already assumed by many here that I was in on your escape attempt, no matter how inaccurate that may be. And my father-"

It clicked. He brushed a tear from her cheek, pushed the flame coloured strand of her hair behind her ear and looked ahead. "You don't want him knowing about us – me – whatever, I get it." He disentangled their fingers and rubbed his head briskly in frustration.

Sara reached out and turned his face back toward her. She met his piercing gaze directly.

"No you don't," she said gently. "My father's opinion is the last one I'm concerned about. If I want to be with you, I will because I can't stand to be apart from you and not because he sanctions it or because it will give me a kick to see him pissed off at the thought. But if my dad gets wind of the fact that there may be something happening between us before you are released, you may have to spend some more time here." Before he could interrupt, she placed a finger on his lips and whispered, "and we both don't want that."

He didn't want to push, but he needed to know. "What are you saying?" His blue eyes searched hers so intensely, she felt drawn into his gaze.

"I'm saying I need to think. And you need to lay low so that you can get out of here."

"And what about us?" he pressed.

She looked at their hands; somehow, their fingers had linked again. He raised their hands and brought it to his lips. Their eyes met over their linked fingers.

"Give me time. I need to think.." Feeling slightly overwhelmed, she said what was bothering her greatly, "I told you before, Michael, I wont be the other woman.. You're still married and-"

"Not for long," he interrupted. "Veronica's pushing through the annulment as we speak. Nika will get to stay in the US, but as somebody else's missus. Somebody of her choice." Michael picked up on her earlier comment. "You know what they say about too much thinking, Doc?" Michael grinned.

Sara swallowed. He was back to serious flirt mode. Charm and self-assurance was rearing its head. _A heady and dangerous combination._ He was irresistible. She clung to her sensibilities and resolve.

"No, what do they say?" She saw his intent mirrored in his eyes seconds before leaned over and briefly brushed his lips with hers. The kiss was infinitely tender. Their eyes never broke its contact and Sara forgot to breathe.

Michael pulled back. "It ruins the romance."

"Oh." Sara couldn't say a word. Her body felt warm, her mind was addled.

Michael pulled away from her just as Louise knocked on the door, popped her head into the room and said, "Sara, I'm back," before leaving them again.

"Thanks Louise." Turning to Michael, she said. "I need to go. I'll check in on you later. Try to get some sleep."

Heading out the door, she heard Michael say, "Not going to happen. Sara?" He called.

At the door she turned back. Her cheeks were glowing. "Yes?"

"When will I know?"

She almost smiled – almost.

"When I'm ready." And with that she headed toward her office.

_Michael_  
Michael lay back in silent contemplation of their discussion. There was no denying the fact that she cared for him, but would it be enough? She was right though. When he left Fox River; he had no intention of looking back. Besides looking in on Sucre, he wanted to put this part of his life behind him. With her work here, it seemed to be another obstacle in their path. Just like her father, her career was important. He didn't want to be responsible for ruining what she had built. He couldn't do that to her, but he couldn't live without being with her either.

Talking to himself, Michael said, "Don't ponder too long Doctor. I've had enough of waiting to last me a lifetime." He grinned. "Don't make me come after you."

_Sara_  
Sara walked into her office, shut the door and sagged against it. She didn't bother to turn on the lights, but left the office in semi-darkness. She raised the back of her hands to her warm cheeks in an effort to cool them. This was ridiculous!

_I'm not a teenager anymore!_ She closed her eyes briefly and tried to think practically.

"This can never work.." she muttered.

_Sure it can._

"It cannot! I'm a doctor, I was – I am – his physician."

_Has your behaviour ever been unethical?_

"No, well, we kissed, but generally no. He was my patient, and I treated him as such."

_Then what's the problem?_

"My father for starters. I don't care what he thinks, but this will have repercussions."

_Are you willing to deal with them?_

"Honestly?"

_Brutally._

"I don't know. I'm attracted to Michael. I just don't know if I'm brave enough to risk everything to be with him, or to see what we could have together. Is that selfish? Argh! I'm so confused," she moaned.

_You're afraid._

"I'm terrified. I don't want to get hurt."

_Have some faith Sara. Life is full of surprises. Perhaps its time you stop being so hard on yourself and allow some happiness to find you. You deserve it, and you've earned it.  
_  
"Have I? Have I earned it?" Sara laughed. "I'm having a debate with myself!" Walking over to her desk she glanced at the time illuminated because it was digital. It was a little after eight pm. She had heaps of paperwork waiting for her, and ward rounds at ten.

She sat down with a sigh and pulled her admin file closer.

"The lights are off Doctor," she muttered to herself.

But before she could get up to switch them on, her telephone rang.

Please not another emergency..

"Dr. Tancredi."

"Sara? Hi, its Veronica."

Sara relaxed. "Veronica, hello. How are you?"

"Great, thanks. I'm sorry to call so late, but Lincoln wasn't able to visit with Michael this afternoon, and wanted to know how he was doing."

"He's doing well. Looks like he'll be making a full recovery." Sara frowned though. She found it odd that Lincoln wasn't able to see his brother. She got the impression nothing would stop him from checking in on him.

Before she could ask though, Veronica must have sensed her curiosity. "He went to see someone about the nightmares this afternoon. He didn't want to, but LJ and I made him go." She laughed. "Can you imagine a grown man being dragged to the counsellor's?"

Sara laughed too. It felt good. "I do have a hard time picturing Lincoln being dragged."

"Well, it can be done. We dragged him!" Sara could sense she was smiling because of the warmth in her tone.

"Who did you decide on?"

"Dr. Leonard Copeland. He's just left Harvard. He was the consult on all Masters students' theses on Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. His reputation is well noted."

"And so it should be. He's a forerunner in the field and exceptionally good at what he does. He's the guru on PTSD. Lincoln's in good hands."

"Thanks for the validation. I want the best for him." Veronica was thoughtful for a moment before continuing; "I thought I should call to let you know that Michael's verdict will be in a day early. In other words-"

Sara felt a shiver hit her. "A day early? On Thursday?" To herself she whispered, That's the day after tomorrow. Speaking to Veronica, "How come? Is that bad?"

"No, apparently it's good, very good. I met with the state prosecutor this afternoon. Judge Saunders is anxious to get this over with. The media attention on the case is crazy; he wanted to throw the media moguls off the scent. Everyone's expecting Friday, now it's Thursday. He's hoping to catch the public off guard as well. No picketing outside the courthouse, etcetera."

"So its need-to-know only then?"

"Yes. I'm telling you because I knew you'd want to know.. and because I suspect, come Thursday, you'll need to have made peace with Michael."

Sara didn't know why, but she felt an overwhelming need to talk to Veronica. She didn't have many female friends, but she felt a kinship with the other woman. "I urm.. I spoke with him earlier."

"I take it then you know about all there is to know?"

"Yes." Sara's breath came out on a rush. "What was he thinking?"

Veronica laughed. "Believe me Sara, I'm still baffled." Sobering up, she said, "I'm glad you talked."

"Doesn't make things any easier. If anything, it makes it more complex."

"You care about him, right?"

"I do," she tentatively admitted. "But it's not that simple. I have obligations, a reputation, my family.."

"It'll come to you, I'm sure of it."

"You're more confident than I am at the moment. This is driving me crazy." Sighing dramatically she asked, "Does Michael know? About Judge Saunders' verdict?"

"No, not yet. Lincoln and LJ wanted the pleasure of telling him. We're coming over tomorrow. But it will be after six. Will that be ok?"

"Sure. I'll let the guards know."

"Ok, well, I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Yeah.. urm Veronica?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks. For listening, not pressuring me.. and not judging me."

"You're welcome. And don't worry about it. There's nothing wrong with being weary Sara. Nothing at all. Just allow yourself the right to be happy.. ok? See you tomorrow." And with that, she ended the call.

She had just dropped the receiver when her mobile rang. At this time of the night, there was only one person who would call this late. Sara didn't feel like the battle, so she let it ring for a while, but wearily decided to answer anyway.

"Hello Dad."

"What took you so long to answer?" he was irritated.

Hello to you too. Used to her father's abrupt tone, she let it slide. "I was on the other line," She improvised.

"A disturbing rumour has reached me Sara. I need to know if there is any truth to the rumour."

Sara felt a frisson of unease. It was his tone more than the words that alarmed her.

Without waiting for her to answer, he continued, blunt and to the point. "Are you involved with the brother of the man who was accused of killing the Vice President's brother?"

Sara's palms started to sweat. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Are you? Because let me tell you if this is true, I will not stand for it! You are my daughter and I have a reputation to think about!"

"His name is Michael and Caroline Reynolds is the one that's now behind bars, not Lincoln Burrows."

"My God! Its true isn't it?" Her father all but hissed at her.

Sara was used to this. Her father meddled in all her affairs, and thought it his right to tell her how to live her life. And she was tired of it. She felt the anger and disappointment build inside of her until it all but choked her.

"How I choose to live my life is none of your concern. You gave up the right to have anything to do with me, when you chose politics and the American people over your own family. You don't care about me, you care about your reputation and how far down this will push you in the poles. If I choose to have a relationship with Michael Scofield, it would be because I want to. Not by your leave."

"Watch your mouth young lady! He's a damn criminal!"

"You know that's not fair." Sensing his intent, she said, "and don't you even think about it," she hissed. "Michael Scofield doesn't belong in this place any more than his brother did. You interfere in this matter, and I swear you will regret it."

"You're threatening me over a common criminal?" Her father was incredulous.

She replied vehemently, "I'm letting you know that I wont let you play God with someone else's life - _Daddy_." She infused her tone with sarcasm.

"He's a criminal. And criminals use people. He's probably using your good name to smooth his transition out of there. He's using you, playing you like a violin, and you cannot even see it! You always were weak Sara. First your drug habit, now this. You want to make all that's bad good. When the hell are you going to learn to leave well enough alone?"

She knew, in that moment, she knew, their relationship – it was over. "I'm sure your PR people will find a way to make you look like the victim. Good bye Governor."

"Sara? _Sara?!_"

She ignored him and ended the call. For the second time that evening, Sara felt tears rush into her eyes. But this time, she was hurting. Her stomach burnt with the emotions threatening to overflow. She let out a sob, then another, and then the dam burst. She slouched in her chair and cried.

Why could he never accept me for who I am and what I needed to do? Is that so much to ask?

She knew he was cynical and bitter, that every word he uttered was poison and perfectly primed. Arrows laced with toxin, aiming straight for her heart, breaking her spirit.

Despite that, his words reverberated in her head and her heart.

_He's using you, playing you like a violin, and you cannot even see it! You always were weak Sara. First your drug habit, now this. You want to make all that's bad good. When the hell are you going to learn to leave well enough alone?_

Sara sat in the darkness of her office - and cried.


	10. Chapter 10

Sara arrived at Fox River the following evening full of uncertainty. She didn't remember much of the night before. After having dealt with her father, she had sobbed till there was nothing left, and then vowed to never allow him that power over her again. She felt cleansed. She knew now where she stood with him, and that was at least something to be salvaged from their disastrous relationship.

She had managed to pull herself together remarkably well. After her teary session, she had bucked up and checked on her patients, then spent the rest of the evening completing her admin. She was determined to finish up and not break stride. She was too far behind as it was.

She had checked on Michael after ten, but it seemed like he had managed to get some sleep after all. Either that or the drugs Louise had given him had knocked him out. She suspected it was a combination of both. Watching him sleep had gone a long way to soothing her battered heart. Here was a chance for happiness, she just didn't know if she was willing to take a leap of faith. So many lies, so many facades. It seemed like the story of her life. She needed to be sure this is what she wanted. There would be no going back.

Coming back to the present. She entered her office, and was surprised to see Katie stowing away some files.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" Sara put her bag down on the table and faced her assistant.

"Don't ask! I've honestly had enough of my whining husband."

At Sara's confused look, she laughed. "Actually, his sister has come to the rescue. She volunteered to check in on him and I volunteered to come back to work. I love the man to bits, but he whines when he is injured and I prefer an inmates whining to his."

They both laughed. "Louise back on days then?"

"Yes, I hope you don't mind. I took the liberty of assuming you would want to stay on since I heard there has been a new admission to the ward?" Katie asked as she made her way to the exit. "Mr. Scofield still on track to leave us on Friday?"

Remembering Veronica's admission and the sensitive nature thereof, she just nodded. "Thanks." Katie knew that word carried a wealth of meaning and significance.

"No problem Dr. Tancredi." And as she stepped over the threshold, she looked back and as a parting shot added, "I always thought that boy was fine."

Sara laughed and headed after her into the reception area. As she entered, the doors swung open and Warden Pope, Fernando Sucre and Charles Westmoreland walked into the waiting area, the latter two escorted by CO Patterson.

"Warden? Hello. I wasn't expecting you." Sara looked at the Warden, nodding in greeting to the three remaining men.

"Not to worry Doctor, these two," he motioned to Sucre and Westmoreland, "seem to be kicking up a fuss about wanting to see Mr. Scofield. Seeing as his release is eminent," the look in his eye told her he knew about the early release, "I thought it prudent to make a concession and allow them some time with him."

Sara was touched. Henry Pope really was a good man. "It's not a problem Sir. If you'll give me a minute, I'll make sure Mr. Scofield is ready to accept visitors."

As Sara turned towards Michael's room, the Warden said, "I'd like to see him for a minute – alone – if I may?"

Sara just nodded, confused, and wondered what the hell was going on.

Michael was reading when she entered. Upon Seeing her, his smile was instantaneous, and her heart tumbled in her chest. "Doctor. Hello."

She couldn't help but return his smile. "Hello Michael."

They stared at each other. No words were needed, but their locked gazes and awkward, flustered smiles.

Sara snapped out of it. "Urm.. How are you feeling?" She headed to the foot of the bed and flipped open his chart. Everything looked good.

"Great. Never felt better."

"That's good to hear."

"Yeah," his grin broadened. "You see, I have this feeling I'm going to be receiving some good – no, great news soon, and I'm very excited about.. my prospects."

Sara's eyes met his and her face burned. She couldn't help but accept his humour. So she did something she swore just a few days ago that she would never do with him again, she flirted back.

"Prospects? Sounds interesting. I wouldn't know anything about this.. news would I?"

"You? Know anything? Doctor, I was referring to my case. You however, I seem to get the impression, is talking about something entirely different. But by all means, if you think you have something to say to me that might.. make my day, please do tell."

"In your dreams Scofield."

He laughed. "You are definitely in them Doctor."

Sara grinned back but remembered the reason for her visit. "Michael - Mr. Scofield, I have some visitors for you. Do you feel up to it?"

"Linc? Sure."

"Your brother will be visiting later, but Warden Pope is here, as well as Charles Westmoreland and your cellmate Mr. Sucre."

Seeing how uneasy he looked at the mention of the former visitor, she added, "And Warden Pope wants to see you alone for a couple of minutes."

Michael grimaced. He had not spoken to the Henry Pope except for the private interview during the trial when he had had to explain his plans for the breakout. He had been deeply sorry for having to deceive the Warden. He sighed. It was yet again another example of how he had not counted on coming to care for the people he had involved in this mess.

_Time to face the music_, he thought.

Michael nodded his accent to Sara and she smiled encouragingly in return. Left alone for a minute, Michael sat on the side of the bed instead of sitting in it. Somehow it felt more dignified.

_Henry Pope_

He knocked briefly to alert Michael of his presence and entered the room with no other pomp or ceremony. He wasn't a tall man; instead, he was well rounded with his hairline definitely showing signs of receding. Despite this, there was an air of respect and quiet dignity around the man, and one of compassion and caring in his aura.

He noticed that Michael was sitting on the side of his bed and seemed to be looking anywhere but at him. He was curious about the boy.

"Mr. Scofield. How are you feeling?" He walked over to Michael's bedside and put his hands into his pockets.

"Warden," he began awkwardly. "This is a surprise. I'm well. Thank you." Michael ran out of things to say, so decided on the one thing that was burning a hole in his gut. "Sir, I have to say that I am sorr-"

Warden Pope held up his hand and interrupted Michael. "Mr. Scofield, please. There is no need."

"There is Sir. There is." He looked at the Warden and asked, "If I may, there are a few things I need to say to you, things I never got the chance to say after the hearing. Things happened too quickly, there didn't seem to be enough time to get around to everything – and everyone."

Henry rocked back on his heels and seemed to be contemplating Michael's words. With a silent nod, he accented to Michael's request.

"Warden, I want to thank you. For your kindness, towards me, and my brother. I know that it seems like I used you or that I meant to place you in the middle of this impossible situation," Michael let out the breath he had been keeping, "but-"

In a tone that brooked no opposition, Henry Pope began, "Mr. Scofield, it doesn't seem like anything to me. You came here with a purpose; a crazy, dangerous one. You have potentially placed the lives of inmates here at risk, whether you wanted to or not." He added when it seemed like Michael wanted to contradict him. "And being the man in charge of this facility, I am left with the unpleasant task of trying to sort through this mess and make it right."

Michael felt like he was five years old and a complete jackass.

"I appreciate that you cared about your brother, but couldn't you have thought of another way to get him out of here? A legal one? Instead, you create havoc within my prison, get my guards riled up, the press hounding us everyday.."

"I'm sorry."

"So am I." His tone softened. "I saw in you something good Michael. Although I don't agree with your methodology, I am glad at least that my instincts about you were not wrong."

Michael was grateful for the lifeline. "I am sorry Sir. And I meant what I said. I appreciated everything you did for me. I know I betrayed the trust you had in me. For that I will always be sorry."

There was an awkward silence for a minute before he continued, "My ur.. my father upped and left my family when I was barely old enough to remember who he was and what he was supposed to mean to me. I grew up without one, and so did Linc. I guess I never felt like I was missing anything. I didn't know what a father's role was supposed to be." He looked the Warden in the eye. "But when I met you.. I.." he struggled to find the right words, "you showed me patience and kindness. You offered me opportunities and in many ways, you gave me a little freedom to exercise my mind. I want you to know that you will be that person I think about.. when I think about a parent. I'll always remember."

Henry could not have been more surprised – or pleased. He genuinely liked Michael Scofield and had felt more than a little betrayed, disappointed and hurt when his deception had come to light.

The Warden put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and smiled. "It's a honour Michael," and then surprised himself - and Michael - by pulling Michael into an awkward embrace. Michael felt his chest tighten and hugged the Warden back before they pulled back and chucked awkwardly.

"Now, enough of the unmanly stuff," Warden Pope said. "My wife would laugh if she knew I was becoming a softie in my twilight years," he added as he cleared his throat.

Michael laughed. "I think she already knows Sir."

Henry chuckled and added, "I wont easily forget you Michael. Between you and I, this has been one of the more challenging periods in my career. I'm not entirely sure whether I regret it."

With a final grin, the Warden said, "Anyway, you have two irate visitors Mr. Scofield. Mr Sucre and Westmoreland are chomping at the bit to get a look at you. They have some exciting news. They are two good men."

"And good friends." Michael said with affection. Sucre had become more than a cellmate. He was Michael's best friend. Charles Westmoreland was like a wise old friend. At Fox River, he had met some incredible people.

"Thank you Henry." He nodded and headed out.

A minute later, Sucre burst into the room with Westmoreland following a bit more sedately - but just a bit.

Sucre, noticing Michael was sitting on the bed looking the epitome of health, let out a hoot of laughter and jumped his friend. Michael found himself crushed in a hug as Sucre placed a loud smack of a kiss on his head before knuckling it.

"Boy am I glad to see you alive and kicking! I can't tell you how crazy worried you made me."

Michael laughed. Feeling pure joy for the first time in days. Sucre's energy had a way of doing that to you. Before he could say anything though, Fernando continued.

"I was ill with worry, hermano, ill." Looking a bit awkward he rushed on in an unconscious whisper, "I ur.. was forced to tell the Doc about the Pugnac papi. She knew I was hiding something, and I was really worried and she looked about to rip my head off if I didn't fess up so I told her, but I want you to know I really didn't want to but you come first and I kinda implicated Linc as well and–"

Westmoreland piped up for the first time. "Sucre, slow down boy! You're making my head spin, and I'm not the patient."

Sucre looked a bit sheepish. "Just thought you should know," he said to Michael before squeezing him again and stepping back to give Westmoreland some room.

"How you doing son?" He hugged Michael too, then stepped back and slapped him good naturedly on the arm. "You look good. I could almost believe Sucre exaggerated your episode." Westmoreland shot Sucre an amused look. He had been treating the entire A-wing to stories of his heroic rescue.

The heat started in Sucre's neck and eventually infused his cheeks.

Michael laughed again. "It was touch and go Charles, but thanks to my good friend Sucre here, I'm alive to tell the tale."

"Glad to hear it." Charles sat down on the bed next to Michael while Sucre pulled up a chair.

"How are things in A-Wing?" Michael asked.

Sucre shrugged. "Same old same old. Abruzzi kept us on P.I. - feeling charitable is what he's calling it." And before Michael could ask he added, "and yes, he's still acting like God has saved him."

"You buying it?" Michael asked.

Westmoreland and Sucre exchanged knowing glances before adding simultaneously, "Not for a minute!"

Charles continued, "But its real fun watching T-Bag walk on egg shells. That one has the fear of God inside of him. Doesn't know when John will strike next. And we all know, it's just a matter of time."

"Keeps T-Bag in line, so you'll hear no complaints from me." Sucre said.

Looking like he was about to explode, Sucre looked at Westmoreland and said, "I can't stand it anymore. Can I tell him?"

Westmoreland laughed, and then nodded.

Michael, instantly suspicious, looked from one to the other, "What's going on?"

Sucre leaned eagerly forward in his seat. "The Pope called me and Westmoreland in yesterday, C-Note afterwards. And I was like thinking we were going to be grilled about something. Pope started out rapping us across the knuckles for thinking about escaping and all, so I thought we were definitely doomed. I had visions of months in ad seg, another five added to my ticket.. Anyway, turns out, Pope has some good news. He intervened on our behalf with the board of correctional services. They cut my ticket Fish! I'm getting out in three months, pending good behaviour, blah, blah!" He laughed excitedly.

Michael was stunned. He looked at Westmoreland. "Coming before the parole board in a month. Looks like you're not the only one getting out of here – legally of course."

"But how?" he asked. He shook his head. "C-Note?"

Westmoreland answered, as Sucre seemed to be choking on his happiness. "The Warden is a good man, and simply put, he went to bat for us Michael. He started an inquiry into C-Note's unfair dismissal from the US Army. The plot thickens my friend. With everything going on right now, the US Government can't afford to get any more bad publicity. They can't wipe his record, but they can give him a reprieve. If all goes well, he may serve up to only half his sentence."

Before Michael could respond, Sucre had jumped up and had him in another hug. "I'm getting married fish! And I'm going to be a Daddy, and I swear I'm going on the straight and narrow. No more short cuts for Fernando."

When he pulled away, he said more seriously. "We," he included Westmoreland in his gaze, "want to say thanks amigo, you know. For sticking your neck out for us."

Michael grinned. He was at a loss for words. Before him stood his best friends.

"And," Sucre continued, "Maricruz and I have decided to name our baby after you. Well, not name name, but the second name.." He laughed. "Maybe the third." He grinned. "My baby is going to be named after a snowflake. Who would have thought?"

For the second time in the space of a few minutes, Michael was stunned. "Sucre, I-"

CO Patterson popped into the room. "Time's up boys. Say your goodbyes."

Sucre embraced Michael again and whispered sincerely, "No words needed, papi."

"Michael, you take care." Westmoreland added as he hugged Michael too.

With a mischievous grin Sucre followed Westmoreland out.

Michael was in a daze.

_A kid named after me?_

He shook his head to clear it. He couldn't help but feel proud anyway.

"You look happy."

Sara's voice interrupted his silent musings. He laughed, a carefree sound. "Yeah. Sucre. He's naming his baby after me. Well, like he says, not naming, but maybe the third name or something."

Sara smiled. "Sounds like you're surprised."

"I am. But in a good way. Sucre's one of the good guys. I wish him the best."

Sara inclined her head in acknowledgement. "Its like a train station here today. You up for one more visit? Your brother, Veronica and LJ are here."

Michael nodded as she moved to signal them in. "A break from the solitude, its great."

Veronica came in first. "Hey. You look much better." She moved to hug him.

_So many hugs_, Michael thought. _And all in one day. A man could get used to it._

LJ and his father walked in next. Linc and Michael embraced and LJ next.

"We've got some great news Uncle Mike." LJ looked to Veronica for the ok and at her nod he then plunged straight in.

"You're getting out of here tomorrow." At Michael's baffled look, he let out a hoot of laughter and Lincoln was forced to continue. "Judge moved the day up. Wanted to avoid the usual bang that goes with cases like yours. By tomorrow this time, you will be a free man."

While Veronica went into the more technical meanings behind the decision, Michael's thoughts were in chaos. There was the shock, the pleasure, the relief.. and also the anxiety associated with the parting of ways with Sara.

He looked over at her standing in the doorway. Their eyes met and he saw the same thoughts reflected in hers. She smiled and left the room, giving the family some time alone. They both knew the day was coming. But shaving off 24 hours suddenly seemed to make it all the more real.

Veronica's mobile rang. While she walked off to take the call, LJ and Lincoln talked about plans for his homecoming. LJ was saying, "I thought you could move in with us for a while. I know you'd want your own place eventually, like before but-"

Veronica's cuss broke his tirade.

Lincoln responded. "Vi? What the matter?"

Veronica held up her hand to halt Lincoln's questions as she continued to listen to the speaker on the other end of the line. "Thanks for letting me know Nick."

She looked disturbed. "We've got trouble. That was Nick." She looked Michael in the eye. "He received word that Governor Tancredi just called Judge Saunders."

LJ swore, so Lincoln scowled in his son's general direction. "What did he say?"

"No idea. But I can assure you its not good." She headed to the exit. "I'm going to speak to Sara. Maybe she knows something."

Lincoln and Michael shared a look.

Lincoln's look said, _I told you so._


	11. Chapter 11

Walking briskly into the reception area, Veronica tried to spot Sara, but she didn't seem to be in the immediate vicinity. Heading over to the desk, she spotted a nurse and asked in an urgent tone, "Dr. Tancredi. Where is she?"

Katie looked up in surprise. Noticing the woman with the charged aura as Lincoln Burrows' lady, she answered promptly. "She should be back in a minute, she just received a personal call."

Veronica latched onto her words, "Personal call? From whom? Her father? How long ago was it? Did she-"

"Ms. Donovan, I'm not at liberty to-"

Veronica butt in, "Its important. Did her father call her?" she stressed.

Looking uncomfortable, Katie glanced towards the exit Sara had taken after her mobile rang and bit her lip. She didn't like being in this position. She was however, saved from making any decision by Sara who strode back into reception. Spotting the frantic Veronica, she knew what was wrong after having just co-indecently received a call from the devil's spawn.

"Veronica-" she began but didn't finish.

"Your father?! Nick just called. Words getting out that he's spoken to Judge Saunders. What the hell is going on?" Realizing her voice had taken on a panicked edge, she took a minute and looked Sara in the eye.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to imply this is your fault, but do you know anything about what caused this?"

Sara sighed and felt the anger towards her father start to resurface. It didn't seem to be buried that deeply lately. She remained silent however, and gestured for Veronica to join her as she headed towards, and then entered Michael's room. Lincoln immediately rushed forward from his seat at Michael's bedside and LJ waited impatiently beside his father. Before Lincoln could fire a question, she began, "Lincoln, please." Watching Lincoln swallow his words and take a step back, Sara walked to Michael's bedside and faced his family.

"Last night, my father called me – and we argued. Apparently he had heard by some means, that there was-" Sara forced back her embarrassment and willed her voice to be steady, "something between Michael and myself," making sure that she kept her gaze firmly averted from his. "He wanted to know if it was true and what I was doing with a.. with a con," she winced, "I'm sorry at the term." She glanced briefly at Michael.

Sara twisted her hands, and then realizing that she was doing, she crossed her arms in an attempt to calm their nervous movements.

"You have got to understand that my father and I have never really had any kind of relationship. When my mother died, the grief consumed him, and me, being a little girl, lost, needing his support, was left on my own, shoved into boarding schools and preached to about being the best, and being the daughter of a man destined to be great." Sara felt the lump in her throat rise in unison with the memories as they flooded back. Her lonely, isolated, picture perfect childhood.

Michael's eyes never wavered from her face. It took everything he had not to reach out and offer her a comforting hand. This was her story and so spent all his energy on offering her his undivided attention and silent devotion.

Not knowing what to do with her hands, she shoved them into her pockets and continued, "I was the dutiful daughter but I was always invisible to him. When I was 17, I was introduced to a variety of substances and once I entered Med School, I started using." She felt rather than saw Michael's surprise. Veronica was less subtle and compassion radiated from her eyes.

"I was an addict by my third year and my saving grace came in the form of a teenager who lie dying before me and I was incapable of helping because I was stoned. The next day I made the hardest decision of my life. I told my father and entered a rehabilitation facility. Daddy never forgave me for the weakness, the shame and the smear it caused his good name. Our relationship has never recovered, and no matter how hard I tried – and I tried – he could never see me as his daughter again," she gave a cynical laugh, "if he ever did. I was a junkie, with junkie friends and he shoved me from his life, using my recovery and successes as a Doctor to win sympathy, compassion and favours from voters."

A ghost of a smile passed over her lips, but she continued. "When he called me last night, we exchanged words, and I said some things I should never have said. But it was time and it needed to be said. I needed to say it. A minute ago, his PA called and informed me – on behalf of the Governor – that he would do everything in his power to keep Michael behind bars."

Lincoln cussed and Sara focused on him. "I'm sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen." She looked at Michael now. "This is not about you, it's about me. He wants to hurt me and he believes he can do it by hurting you."

Lincoln paced and slammed his right first into his left hand. "I knew this was going to happen. I knew it! This whole business was happening too fast and my instincts told me things were going to come to a head soon. Shit!"

"I'm sorry," Sara whispered and made a move to leave.

Michael spoke for the first time, "Sara, Sara wait!"

She kept moving. Michael made a move to go after her and hopped off the bed.

Veronica forestalled him, glared at Lincoln and nodded in Sara's direction. Catching her drift, he realized his mistake.

"Sara?! Wait."

Turning back, she was surprised to firstly bump right into Lincoln who was less than a step behind her, and then to feel herself wrapped in his embrace. Her face muffled by his shoulders, she heard him whisper in her ear. "Your father is a bastard who missed the opportunity to get to know his daughter, a woman who cares for others in a way that is noble and admirable."

Pulling back, he glanced at Veronica and noticed her wet, smiling face, her gaze radiating approval. Focusing back on Sara, he said, "we," he encompassed the room in his gaze, "don't blame you. Veronica's on this and so is Nick. We'll ride it out."

Sara's eyes filled and this time she drew him into her embrace. "I appreciate that. I really do. But I can see the worry in your eyes." Stepping from his arms, she turned towards Michael but asked Veronica. "What is the possible damage here?"

"Honestly? I don't know. Nick sounded tense.. I'm heading to meet with him after I leave here, and then I should have a better understanding of the possible ramifications."

In a voice that brooked no opposition, Sara said, "let me know what I can do to help."

Michael admired her courage, "Sara, this might get messy. And he is your father. I can't ask you to become any more involved than you already are."

Walking to his side, she ignored the looks from his family and linked their fingers. "I became involved the minute I laid eyes on you. Stepping back now is not going to make any difference. It's time I face the demons in my closet."

Michael squeezed her hand in return.

"I'm leaving to talk strategy with Nick. Michael, the hearing is tomorrow; get some rest. I'll keep you informed." Hugging first Michael, then Sara, she said, "Thank you.

I'll be in contact."

With that, LJ, his father and Veronica left, leaving Michael and Sara. Michael got up and drew her into his embrace. "Everything's going to be fine." He stroked her hair soothingly.

She felt her eyes burn. For a minute, she didn't resist.

"I hope so, I really hope so."

She turned her face into his neck and just for a moment, clung onto and leaned into him. All the while, holding on tight.

Lincoln heard the beep of the alarm and sighed in relief. He hadn't been able to sleep at all. The morning of Michael's hearing had arrived, and it was time to face the future. Looking to his left, Veronica lay close to his side, still asleep. She had stumbled into bed less than five hours ago, having spent the night preparing the case with Nick.

They had no choice but to enter into the hearing with no idea what Governor Tancredi had said to Judge Saunders. Nothing but a hunch. He hated not knowing, but trusted that Veronica and Nick were competent enough to field any and all eventualities.

Veronica stirred and opened her eyes. For a minute, the wariness showed, but it was soon replaced with fire and determination. Lincoln smiled.

_That's my girl_, he thought.

Curling up to Lincoln's side, Veronica stretched languidly and kissed him in the neck before asking, "What time is it?"

Taking a moment to simply savour the intimacy of waking with her, Lincoln finally answered, "Seven."

"Hearing starts at nine. I've got to get going. I'm meeting Nick at eight to smooth over any final arguments and angles." Seeing Lincoln's worried gaze, she kissed him tenderly and rested their foreheads together, "it's going to be ok. Lets have some faith."

He nodded. "I trust you, I have faith in you. It's the good Governor that worries me."

As Veronica made a move to get up, Lincoln asked, "Are you sure we're doing the right thing? This plan could blow up in our faces."

Veronica shrugged. "It's a personal choice, and it has been made. I agree, things could get ugly, but at this point, we don't have any other choice. If things go sour, then that will be our only chance. And the probability seems likely that it will. I admit, it makes me uneasy, but the decision was made with no coercion from either Nick or myself, and especially not from Michael."

Lincoln nodded, still uneasy. He still didn't like it. _Not one bit._

Michael rubbed his sweating palms together as he sat next to Veronica and Nick Savrinn in a well-lit room. It felt so surreal to be in a courtroom again. So much had happened since he was taken into custody that day, life altering changes, and yet it was mere months ago.

Time was a strange concept. Relationships had changed; bonds had been forged, while others had eroded. Lives had altered; hearts had been broken and yet mended as well. Time, he thought. _Time. _

His thoughts turned to Sara. He worried for her. He had never meant for her to ever become involved in this saga, and yet here he sat, his life, her life, their future hanging in the balance. And the odds didn't look good.

His musings were interrupted by Veronica's hand on his shoulder, signalling the beginning of the proceedings. He felt a pang of unease shiver down his spine as the clerk of the court announced, "All rise in the presence of the honourable Judge Byron Saunders."

Everyone dutifully rose. Michael's knees felt weak. The aforementioned Judge looked eager to get started and headed towards his seat without undue ceremony.

"You may be seated. This court is now in session. This hearing is to determine the outcome of Scofield versus the state of Illinois."

Judge Saunders perched his reading glasses onto the bridge of his nose and peered out at the attendees at the hearing. The courtroom was empty but for the select few allowed to attend.

There were the necessary court appointed clerks and scribes, the allotted guards on duty, Michael, Lincoln and LJ, Nick and Veronica for the defence. For the state, there was a sharp, and hard-nosed looking prosecuting attorney, Mr. Walter Edward Pitt and his assistant. W.E. Pitt had a reputation as a shark in the courtroom. Beside for those persons, there was no one else.

Glancing back at his notes, Judge Saunders began. "In my career, a considerable one at that, as a servant to this country, I have never come across a case of this nature. Not only are the circumstances unique, but the interest and involvement to which members of society and indeed government have taken in this case is also beyond my experience.

It is my wish and express desire to have this matter dealt with before the end of this day. I want to warn both parties involved that I have studied the facts and therefore will not entertain a rehash thereof. My decision, once made, will stand firm. Mr. Scofield, please rise."

The Judge peered at Michael through observant brown eyes, and at his bidding, Michael rose. "You have a full understanding of the severity of your actions and the stress it has placed on this country's legal system?"

In a voice more steady than he felt, Michael said, "I do, Your Honour." He swallowed.

_This doesn't sound good._

"You have signed a statement of your own accord, outlining, in detail, the plan you had entered into, at your full senses and free will, intending to break your brother out of a state facility while he was on death row?"

"Yes, Your Honour."

"You therefore acknowledge that you were not coerced, blackmailed or pressured into these actions by anyone?"

Those piercing eyes seem to see into his soul. "Yes, Your Honour."

"Well then, will the prosecution begin?"

Nick rose. "Your Honour, this is highly irregular. The defence wishes-"

Saunders held up his hand and forestalled him. Have a seat Mr. Savrinn. I am aware that this is highly irregular, but then this entire case is not the norm, would you not agree?" Not waiting for Nick's response, he continued. "A new statement has been made to me, and as it directly affects the case of the prosecution, I will allow Mr. Pitt to enlighten you and make his final argument. The floor will then be yours."

Veronica and Nick exchanged a glance before he nodded his accent to the Judge.

"Mr. Pitt, it is this courts wish that you start the proceedings."

Judge Saunders sat back and watched the shrewd attorney rise.

Taking a moment to examine a memo in front of him, the prosecuting attorney rose, tied his jacket button and stepped forward. "Your Honour, last night, at twenty hundred hours, the Governor of Illinois, Mr. Frank Tancredi, called my office with some highly disturbing news. On behalf of the Governor, I would like to ask that the news remain confidential and court records sealed once the proceedings are concluded. Its simply a matter of privacy due to the sensitivity of the allegations within."

Judge Saunders nodded. "This motion has already been granted, please proceed."

"Governor Tancredi, as most here know, has always had a firm stance on crime. He believes that punishment and retribution are the only ways to combat those forces within society that are morally corrupt and defect. It is for that reason that he refuses to grant clemency to any and all inmates on death row. It has since been concluded that Mr. Lincoln Burrows has been cleared of all charges against him, but it is the state's wish that his brother not be treated with leniency due to his association with Mr. Burrows."

"It is admitted by the defendant that he was at his full faculties and senses when he set into motion plans to commit a criminal offence. He planned, he organized, and he studied. He intended. As a nation, we mourn the miscarriage of justice in the case of Mr. Burrows. What he has been forced to endure is shameful to all those involved. Due to the conspiracy recently uncovered, it is even more important that justice now be carried out and that the American people be shown that although corruption once reigned within the upper echelons of government, it will be weeded out. We need to prove to them that miscarriages of justice will be corrected and law and order restored. By setting Mr. Scofield free we will be sending a message to the public that lawlessness will be tolerated."

Judge Saunders interrupted. "Mr. Pitt, we have already been through these arguments, please proceed with haste."

"Your Honour, the defence council has painted a picture of one brother coming to another brothers aide out of righteousness and loyalty. I beg to differ. Not only has the defence mislead us, but they have also conveniently forgot to mention how Mr. Scofield is still using underhanded means to ensure his release."

"It has been made known to me, directly from the Governor of this state, that Mr. Michael Scofield is currently attempting to, and has previously attempted to, solicit a relationship with the aforementioned politicians daughter in an effort to gain favours and support for his release. Dr. Sara Tancredi, the physician at Fox River the Governor's only daughter, has been on the receiving end of unwanted attention from Mr. Scofield. It is our belief that these underhanded methods point once again to the lack of conscience on the part of Mr. Scofield and his continuing blatant disregard of authority."

Nick stood and interrupted, "Why, Sir, would the Governor take such a keen interest in this case? And by whose authority has he learnt that my client is paying attentions of any kind to Dr. Tancredi?"

"It is out of respect for the law and the proper use thereof that Governor Tancredi takes an interest in this case. Seeing that the party being used so callously by Mr. Scofield is his daughter, it is not unexpected that the Governor would want to see the situation stopped. I am also told, that it was Dr. Tancredi herself who made those sentiments known to her father." Looking like the cat that ate the canary, Walter lifted a document from the hands of his excited assistant and smugly handed it to the judge. "We have here her sworn statement, entered as _exhibit A_."

At this, there was an uproar. Lincoln and his son were heard simultaneously mouthing, "bullshit!" while Veronica and Nick clamoured to get copies of Sara's supposed sworn statement.

Michael's heart bled. Her father was a piece of work. Ruthlessly using his daughter as a means of displaying his power. He was sending a message. He could control Sara. He knew she would never refute his claims. She sought his approval too much.

_The Bastard._

Judge Saunders was forced to ask the court attendees to settle down. "Everyone, silence in this courtroom please!" Examining the statement, he nodded and passed it onto Veronica and Nick.

"Anything else Mr. Pitt?"

"One last thing, Your Honour. The state wishes to reiterate that although justice wronged Mr. Burrows, it would be a greater injustice to let his brother go free as some sort of misguided feeling of guilt. Let justice prevail. Let Mr. Michael Scofield pay for his admitted, premeditated actions." With that, Walter Pitt, looking smug, took a seat.

Veronica and Nick exchanged words briefly. Before standing though, she turned to Michael and squeezed his hands. They knew the next few minutes were not going to be easy.

Consequently, as things go, Mr. Pitt and Governor Tancredi had played right into their hands.

"Judge Saunders," she began, "the defence would like to call upon Dr. Sara Tancredi to testify to the authenticity of the aforementioned Exhibit."

Walter Pitt spluttered and half rose in his seat. "Your Honour, this is-"

Saunders removed his spectacles and asked, "Miss Donovan, what is going on here?"

"Your Honour, if the sworn statement is indeed valid and correct, the defence would like to make absolutely sure thereof. We would like to call Dr. Sara Tancredi to the stand, with your permission of course."

"This is highly irregular!" Pitt continued. The smug look all but gone. "There is no need to see Dr. Tancredi. We have seen her sworn statement, what difference will her testimony make but for the defence to prolong this process and waste taxpayers money with this case! Has this woman not been through enough trauma at the hands of Mr. Scofield?!"

"Well Mr. Pitt, I tend to agree with you. However, if indeed Dr. Tancredi has signed the statement, then there is nothing to fear from hearing her testimony."

"But Your Honour-"

"Miss Donovan, Mr. Savrinn, call your witness."

Taking a moment to say a prayer, Veronica said, "the defence calls Dr. Sara Tancredi to the stand."

The court doors opened and Sara walked in. Anyone looking at her saw a woman who looked confident and calm in a dark suit. Her hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, her sure footfalls marred only by the rhythmic clink of the stiletto heels of her black sandals as she walked to the witness stand.

Inside, Sara was a mass of quivering nerves. But her anger fuelled her. Her father had seriously misjudged her, her loyalties and her ability to be manipulated. No more. She knew what she was doing, just like she knew that when he forged her signature, whatever could be salvaged from their dying relationship, had died too.

After being sworn in by a clerk, she focused on Michael's face. He gave her strength and calmed her nerves. She was doing what needed to be done. Glancing briefly at the prosecution, she saw panic and shock. They had no idea what she was going to say, and they were blindsided. This would change the course of her life forever and turn it into a royal mess. She was never more ready.

Veronica walked up to her and asked softly, "You ok?" At her nod, she asked one last time, "Are you sure?" Without hesitation, Sara nodded.

"Dr. Tancredi, do you know Michael Scofield?"

Sara cleared her throat, leaned into the microphone and said clearly and confidently, "Yes. I have come to know him as he is an inmate at Fox River State Penitentiary where I work as the Doctor on call."

"Dr. Tancredi, has Mr. Scofield, in your opinion, displayed any behaviours that would seem to suggest that he was attempting to coerce you into getting behind his cause? In other words, has he asked you, hinted at or lead you to believe in any way that you could get him released from Fox River?"

"Objection Your Honour! The defence-"

"Mr. Pitt, sit down please! Dr. Tancredi, you will answer the question."

"Michael Scofield has never given me that impression, no. I know with clarity that he is not out to use me in any way, especially not to solicit favours of any kind."

She glanced at Michael and although her face remained sober, her eyes smiled into his.

"One last question Doctor," Veronica continued, "we have in the courts possession a statement, purported by the state to be signed by you, claiming that Mr. Scofield has indeed expressed such inappropriate behaviours." Veronica handed Sara the statement.

"Doctor, have you seen this document before and if so, does it bear your signature?"

Speaking slowly, and carefully, she looked at Judge Saunders and said, "I have never seen this document in my life. It is my belief that the Governor had this document forged to push forth his own agenda. I reiterate, I have never seen this, and I never signed it."

Judge Saunders leaned forward, concern and alarm knotting his brow, "Dr. Tancredi, you do understand what you are saying here? You are accusing the Governor, your father, of forging these documents?"

"I know exactly what I'm saying Your Honour. My father believes he can control my life and make decisions for me, decisions that will strengthen his political career. I will not stand for it, and I will not be a part of it."

Judge Saunders turned his glare to Walter Pitt. "Mr. Pitt, am I therefore to understand that you submitted forged documentation in my courtroom?"

Pitt flushed. "Well, ur.. Your Honour I feel... ur.. I cannot really comment.. but-"

"Mr. Scofield, please rise."

At the Judge's command, Michael stood.

"I've been listening to the impassioned pleas of Mr. Pitt here, as to why you should remain incarcerated. And while there are many reasons to release you, I have to admit that there are many valid points that he makes. You decided to break the law Mr. Scofield, you made a conscious decision to do so and I cannot ignore those facts. However, in the wake of recent governmental fraud, I find what has been attempted here today - by another high-powered official - unacceptable. It is for that reason that I am inclined to see you released Mr. Scofield."

There was a roar of delight from LJ and Lincoln. Veronica and Sara were more subdued with delicate gasps. "However, you will serve 500 hours of community service to be supervised by a state appointed person. Should you default on any of those hours, you will immediately be sent to Fox River to serve a period of five years. If your community service is completed without interruption, it is the order of this court that your record be expunged."

"Although I am inclined to have you serve the sentence, the corruption so evident here, once made public, will only give rise to more public dissention at a time when people need hope and belief in their political leaders. Mr. Scofield, you may have to thank your release on the man who wanted to prevent it. You are a free person and may leave this courtroom as such. As for the Governor, a warrant of arrest will be issued. Mr. Pitt, you will be taken into custody for questioning. This court is now adjourned!"

Michael was swamped with hugs and well wishes from Veronica and Nick, LJ and Lincoln. The relief he felt was intense. For a long time, he and Lincoln just stood together, locked in an emotional embrace.

"Its over little brother," Lincoln kept saying, "its finally over."

Releasing his brother, Michael looked for the woman he owed it all to. But she was nowhere in sight.

"Veronica?" Snagging Veronica's attention from Nick, he asked, "Where's Sara?"

"She was right here a moment ago," she said, looking around.

Michael didn't listen to anything else, but fought his way out of the courthouse and ran towards the entrance. Looking frantically left and right he spotted the copper ponytail disappear into a white Ford Focus. Running at breakneck speed, he caught her just as she was about to accelerate out of the parking lot.

Banging on the window, he shouted, "Sara?!"

Looking slightly shocked at the intrusion, she rolled down the window, killed the engine and peered at him.

"Hey. Congratulations on the decision. I'm really happy for you." Her smile was forced, her eyes troubled.

Ignoring her words, he asked, "Where are you rushing off to? I thought maybe we could grab a cup of coffee.. My first one as a free man." He smiled at her.

She shook her head. "I can't, I'm sorry. I really need to go."

"What's going on? You're running from me again."

Sara released her breath and prayed for strength to say what needed to be said without breaking down and begging him to take her with him - _anywhere_.

Shaking her head she said, "I can't do this. I'm sorry. I don't regret what I did here, but there are going to be repercussions and I need to sort out my life. I cannot deal with this thing between us right now."

Michael felt anger rise. "Don't do this. Don't shut me out. You don't have to do this alone-"

"I'm sorry. But if you care for me, give me the space I need. I just can't do this right now."

"When?" he demanded.

"I don't know. Please, just let me go."

"Sara. Dammit, don't do this to us. Lets just talk. We'll talk and take it one minute at a time." His tone became cajoling.

Looking beyond him, she spotted Lincoln, Veronica and LJ exiting the courthouse. "Go, go be with your family. They care about you. They love you."

"And I love you!" Michael's face registered almost as much shock as hers did when he said it. But as the breeze whispered silently between them, he realized he meant every word.

"I love you," he whispered softly. "Don't walk out on us."

Sara felt like she was being pulled in a million different directions. What her heart wanted, what her soul needed. She wiped at her eyes and started the engine. "Michael, my life is a mess. I cannot be with you and not have made peace with my past."

"Are you saying you'll come to me? I'll wait Sara." She remembered a short time ago when he asked her to wait and she almost lost her nerve.

_I need to get away,_ she thought.

"Take care of yourself Michael. And be happy."

With that, she drove off. "Sara! Sara! Dammit!"

Michael kicked the ground at his feet. He felt like his heart was being ripped to shreds.

"I'm sorry Michael."

He felt Lincoln's hand on his shoulder but didn't turn to look at him. Misery settled in the pit of his stomach.

"She left," he whispered, "and I don't think I'm ever going to see her again." He turned now to look at his brother and Lincoln saw the moisture shimmer in his eyes. "The problem is, she's got my heart with her."

Giving Michael a moment, Lincoln squeezed his shoulder in silent support and said, "Come on, let's go home."

Michael looked into his brother's eyes and then off into the distance before murmuring, "I don't know where that is anymore."


	12. Chapter 12: The End

_Twelve months later_

Sitting in her car, Sara Tancredi pondered her fate as she looked at the beautiful, sprawling house before her, and proceeded to give herself a pep talk.

_Open the door Sara, and step out_. She groaned. _This wasn't supposed to be so hard! _

It had been twelve months since she had sped from him on the day he was released, and almost a year since the big gaping hole in her soul would not be filled. No matter what she did, where she went, she always longed for him. She went to bed with thoughts of him, she dreamt, she woke with him.

Having made the decision to contact him and to explain, it had taken her a week to drum up the nerve to visit Veronica and ask for her assistance. Sara had made the appointment at Veronica's offices so that she might circumvent bumping into either Lincoln or Michael, should she visit their home.

She'd wanted to know how he was, what he was doing, and how to contact him. Veronica however, had told her nothing. All she did was listen as Sara rehashed her life and the decisions she had come to these past months, before pushing Michael's address at her, scribbled hastily on a piece of paper with the stern instruction to _'call him.'_

Easier said than done. Numerous times she had called and simply hung up before even getting a dial tone. At one point, she was so fired to speak to him, and then was thoroughly disappointed when she got his machine. It was as if the God's were telling her to visit him in person – and so here she was.

It had taken her two extra weeks, but she had made it. Breathing deeply to calm her racing heart, she stepped from her car, smoothed the fabric on her hips and headed up the drive leading to his sanctuary.

The single story rambling brick home, situated in a quiet leafy suburb, was gorgeous from the outside. It looked solid and welcoming, all dark brick and solid warm honeyed wood. Making her way to the porch she pushed down the instinct to run and rang the bell before she lost her nerve. Several minutes passed and nothing happened.

_Please, don't tell me he's not here.. I don't know if I'll have the courage to come back again. _

Attempting to ring the bell again, she listened and heard music playing, coming from somewhere around the side of the house.

_He had to be home then, right?_

Walking around the drive, she heard the music became louder the closer she got. It was coming from a shed round the back, which stood independently from the house but had the same brick feel, although on a smaller scale.

Walking to the threshold, she tentatively peered inside and her breath caught in her throat. As it turned out, it wasn't a shed at all, but more of an office. There were sketches pegged up on boards, standard office equipment, a table and some chairs. She gripped the doorframe in an attempt to steady herself and took a moment to simply drink in the sight of him.

He was dressed casually, jeans and a blue T-Shirt, barefeet, his back to her as leaned his forearms on the worktable, seemingly studying some papers, drawings or blueprints. From her angle, she couldn't be sure which it was. His hair was longer than he used to wear it, just more than an inch in length, she noticed, and when he turned his face ever so slightly to the right, she detected dark stubble shading his cheeks. He was still tall and lean, and his shoulders filled her view.

The music was loud, some soft rock, the male vocalist's husky voice filling the air. But as if he became aware of a presence, he stiffened, slowly raised himself to his full height, paused a second – she could see his shoulders rise and fall - and slowly turned to face her.

This time, it took all her self-control to stay upright as her knees bucked. Sara gripped the doorframe and noticed the shock register on his face, and then something else, but it was masked so quickly she was sure she must have been mistaken. All that hung between them was the words coming from the CD player.

_…I'm standing before you _

_this label on my head _

_I'm pleading before you _

_for you to understand_

_its you _

_when i look up in the sky i see you _

_and then i turn and close my eyes its you _

_and when I'm sitting all alone in my room _

_everything reminds me of you.._

As if an act of fate, it was the final track and the disk had come to an end.

The awkward tension stretched between them and all she could hear was the increased tempo of her rapidly beating heart.

"Hello Michael," she said as she forced herself to walk over the threshold and take another, and then another step towards him, until they stood face to face, an arms length apart.

He looked a little world-weary. The slight stubble he had made him look almost dangerous, but still unbelievably handsome. The darkness of the hair on his head and the hair on his face contrasted startlingly with his pale complexion and blue eyes. They looked like glittering sapphire pools.

_How could I have forgotten how vivid they are?_ She wondered.

"Sara?" Was all he could manage, his tone laced with disbelief. He'd known. The minute he caught the scent of her on the breeze, he'd known. He would never forget her scent. Pure white lilies. It haunted him. But her, standing in front of him, it had to be a dream.

_How many times had he dreamt about her?_

As if to assure himself of her form, he reached out his hand and touched her cheek. Warm, soft and real. She leaned slightly into his palm and closed her eyes. As if burned, he snatched his hand away and took a step back.

She looked the same, yet different. If forced to use an adjective, he would say she looked healthy. Her hair, falling in copper waves around her shoulders, shone vibrantly. Her cheeks glowed, and while dressed simply in jeans and a white jacket, she looked radiant, beautiful, vibrant and so alive.

"You're here?" Michael turned away, then back to face her. "How did you know where to find me?"

She could see the anger and confusion in his gaze. "I'm sorry to intrude. Veronica gave me your address and I-"

"And you decided to drop in on me without a warning? Where have you been? I tried to find you until everyone convinced me that you would be found when you were ready. And still I looked. I even contacted you father! Not that he was much help. But you had disappeared. Just vanished."

"Michael, I.." she swallowed. "I came to explain. I know it may be a little too late, but I owe you that much and I've come to you. You may not want to hear it, but I need to tell you." Sara's eyes pleaded with him. "If you will give me a few minutes of your time, I'd like to try and make things right."

"Make things right?" Michael winced.

_Amends? Not possible_, he thought. _It never had been._

He looked at her and it annoyed him that he wanted to hear what she had to say. _Why can't I dismiss her the way she dismissed me?_ he thought.

Brushing past her, he muttered, "lets get inside. Its almost dark and the temperature drops out here."

Not waiting to see if she followed, he walked up a brick pathway which lead to what she assumed was the back entrance to the house. When she stepped inside, she found herself in a spacious kitchen.

Michael stopped and asked, "Can I offer you something to drink?"

She shook her head in denial. "No, no thanks," and clutched her purse like a lifeline. She was much too nervous to drink anything. Looking around the kitchen at the maple colored wooden cupboards, honeyed floorboards, and gleaming marble tops she nervously said, "Its beautiful."

Shrugging he continued on till he reached the living room and gestured for her to sit. She sat but instantly regretted it. He didn't sit and so she found herself staring up at him, wishing he would take a seat too, but knowing he wouldn't. She was on his turf and she would play by his rules.

The brief walk through the house confirmed her earlier musings. The house was large, warm, comfortable and rambling.

_A safe subject then_, she thought.

"This is a beautiful home. Its so roomy," she began. Sara admired the wooden floors, solid furniture and masculine comfort. "When I spoke to Veronica, all she mentioned was that you bought this place." The house was spacious, with very little walls and very little barriers. It was just open.

Shifting on the balls of his feet, Michael put his hands in his pockets; a gesture which seemed so natural to Sara. "Yeah. I needed a place of my own but being in a cage with walls closing me in didn't appeal very much. After the wedding, I knew Veronica and Linc needed their space, and with a teenager and the baby coming-"

Interrupting Michael mid-sentence, "Veronica's pregnant?!" Sara asked with genuine delight.

Michael smiled briefly for the first time and nodded. "She just found out. But you would swear she was ready to give birth the way Lincoln and LJ dote on her."

Sara returned his smile. "They're excited?"

"Yes. Linc wasn't there when LJ happened, so he's extra excited about doing it right this time."

Michael realized around the same moment Sara did that they were both grinning at each other and immediately sobered. He turned and walked over to the fireplace and stared briefly at the ashes from the fire lit the night before.

Like so many times before, stillness settled around them.

Swallowing in an attempt to soothe her dry throat, Sara said, "As you must have realized, I'm no longer working at Fox River." She let that drop into the silent void that had fallen between them.

Michael turned to look at her, his brow knitted. _So she knew i'd try to find her._

But before he could say anything she continued. The words came fast and without allowing him any gap to interrupt. "I resigned on the same day you were released. I couldn't go back. I took some time off from my career and went to visit a college friend in Wyoming. The space at the ranch, it gave me time to think.. and to figure out what I wanted to do with the rest of my life, with my ruined relationship with my father, with my career, with.." Her voice trailed off, "with you."

Being unable to sit still any longer, she let go of her purse and stood too but walked to the opposite side of the room and turned to face him. Michael was reminded of the day he saw her at Fox River, with the light at her back. She was still as mesmerizing now as she had been then.

She was shaking slightly, so she folded her hands across her midsection. "I had to come to terms with the fact that although I never had love as a child, I am entitled to it as an adult. I never felt worthy of being happy because my father made me feel that because of my addiction, I didn't deserve happiness and that I should spend the rest of my life atoning for my sins."

Her voice had become so soft, Michael had to really listen to catch, "It sounds so messed up but its true. And I believed it."

He felt some of his anger subside at the pain in her voice. In many ways their childhood circumstances were similar. Different names, events, cities, yet the same universal emotions. Hurt, loss, loneliness, pain. He let her continue.

"I couldn't go back to Fox River. I had done all I could there, and things would never be the same again. That chapter was closed and I needed to move on. Besides," she smiled fondly and said, "the infirmary would never be the same again. After I left Wyoming, I came back and was contacted by an old professor of mine who was heading up a drug rehabilitation center here. I met with him and took the job he offered."

Pride entered her voice. "I'm mentoring young addicts, and I love it. I still play a key medical role, but it also involves being more involved in the actual rehab process, and its good for me." She glanced at him, but could gauge nothing from his expression.

"I also went to see my father just after his trial. I needed closure on our relationship. He will never forgive me for testifying against him. According to him, I single handedly ruined his political career because of a silly crush on a common criminal."

She scowled at her father's tactless words but her spirits lifted just a little as she detected a smile lingering at the corners of his mouth. She took a small step towards him. "I want you to know that I never meant to walk out on you. But I needed to figure me out, and learn to accept who I was, who I am, accepting the Tancredi legacy, but allowing myself to be free of it. I needed to make peace with having no real family, be ok with being alone, but also accepting that I am allowed to want more and feel like I deserve it."

"Why have you come here?" He needed to be sure.

Her heart sank. Any moment now he was going to tell her it was nice seeing her, but to take a hike. She swallowed her pride. She needed to try.

Taking a calming breath of air, she said, "I know it's been almost a year and I know I hurt you terribly by leaving. But, I was hoping you could understand where I was emotionally." Realizing she was stalling, she continued, "when I left, you said.. You said that.." Sara couldn't look at him; her embarrassment was so acute, she was stammering.

Michael cleared his throat, quite enjoying her discomfort. It soothed his ego and healed his battered pride as nothing else could have.

"I said I was in love with you," he said matter-of-factly.

Sara flinched. This was not going the way she'd planned. In her mind, he should have swept her into his arms already.

"Yes, urm.. you did. And I didn't expect that you still felt that way.. but I was hoping that.. I was thinking.. urm.. maybe if you were willing to.. we could have that coffee you mentioned.. and maybe we could see if there is still something.."

She trailed off and let the quiet stretch. She still couldn't look at him.

"I'm sorry Sara," she heard him begin.

At those words, her mind shut down. She was mortified and humiliation swamped her entire being. She should never have come.

_What was I thinking?! After all this time. Stupid, stupid, stupid! _

Not waiting for him to continue, she looked blindly for her purse and attempted to brush by him. "I'm so sorry to have taken up your time. I just wanted to clear the air, and wish you the best. I've really got to go."

He moved so fast, she wasn't sure exactly how it happened. One minute she was walking by, the next he had her pinned to the opposite wall. His face mere inches from her own, his body pressed to hers.

"Dr. Tancredi, I haven't finished with you yet."

Looking directly into those unreadable aqua depths, she recalled the day of the prison riots when he had helped her down from the ceiling. The look in his eyes reminded her of that moment. Back then; she had thought that he'd wanted to kiss her. Surely she was mistaken? Sara licked her lips nervously.

"I think you've made your feelings clear-"

"Have I?" _Oh God,_ she thought, his eyes were so intense she felt her knees weaken. "According to the ex-Governor of this state, you have a crush on me. Assuming of course I was the – how did he put it? – oh yes, the _con_ he was referring to."

Sara allowed a nervous laugh to pass from her lips as she felt her face flush.

"And for the record, you did wound me Doctor. Very much. I fell for you, hard and fast, and watching you leave was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I fought it. I kept looking for you until it dawned on me that you were right. You needed time, and if I loved you, I needed to give you your time and have faith that you would realize what a prime catch I was - am," his voice lowered seductively, "and come knocking at my door."

Sara started to relax – just a little. "Prime catch you say? Well, in my book, a con isn't classified very highly."

His lips was a hairbreadth away from hers as he whispered, "this con is crazy about you. But I'm sorry." Her eyes misted. "If you think I'm settling for a cup of coffee, you underestimate me Sara."

Looking into his eyes, she whispered back, "So what exactly are you after Mr. Scofield?"

He smiled, a genuine, happy, seductive and seriously sexy smile. "Much more. Much, much more.."

With that, he kissed her and they went up in flames. It was not like any of the other kisses they had previously exchanged. Here wasn't just passion and need, but raw emotion. They both poured their longing and regret into each other.

_God, but I missed her_, he thought.

Sara's arms pushed restlessly and eagerly around his shoulders as his hands fisted into her hair, angling her head to afford him better access. She couldn't breathe, but she didn't care.

When they came up for air, just for a second, she whispered against his lips, "I love you Michael Scofield. I love you."

"Thank God," he whispered, his breathing labored, those blue eyes on fire. "I was going to kidnap you and beg you to be my slave if you didn't." And promptly plundered her mouth again.

Sara smiled briefly before kissing him back.

_God, but I missed him_, she thought.

Sara laughed as Michael kissed her hand, playing loosely with her fingers. After their heated reunion, they decided to cool things down a little. Michael had taken her on a tour of his home. Some tour it had turned out to be. Sara remembered very little of the house itself, since there had been a lot of kissing involved. Later, Michael spread some huge pillows in front of the fireplace, lit the flame in the hearth and they sat down in front of it, just getting reacquainted.

"Seriously though, what have you been doing, besides buying this house?"

Looking at their linked fingers, he answered, "a lot actually. I've got my community service to finish, and until then, my movements are a little restricted. But Lincoln and I have started our own engineering company. I do the technical layouts, and he's on the building and construction side of things. I honestly don't know why we hadn't thought of it before. I guess we were both just living by each other. Things are just getting off the ground and it looks promising. We've got Veronica in on the legal work. It pays having connections," he said smiling.

Light dawned in her eyes. "So that's what you were working on in the shed out back? I thought they looked like drawings or something."

He laughed. "Drawings or something? Doctor, did you notice that before or after you checked out me out?"

"In your dreams Scofield." But she leaned in to kiss him. "I missed you," she said after a moment and hugged him fiercely. Moving back, she ran her hand over his head and then his rough cheek. "I kind of like this rugged look," she said as she rubbed his facial hair. "Very sexy Scofield."

He turned a little red at her praise but teased back. "It was my _pining for you_ look. Besides, I don't think I would have been able to hold out much longer than this past year. I missed you too."

His lips caught her again and Sara marveled at the intensity of what she felt for him. A year apart hadn't faded any of the feelings. If anything, it had intensified them.

Leaning back, she looked into his eyes and solemnly said, "I'm so sorry I hurt you."

He shook his head. "Don't," and placed a finger over her lips.

"Where do we go from here?"

He pushed her hair from her face. "Lets take it one day at a time. I'm not going anywhere Sara. And I'm not letting you go anywhere either."

"I wasn't planning to. But you're in trouble though," she said seriously.

"How so?"

"You're stuck with me. For a very long time," she replied earnestly.

He laughed. "I've waited forever for that kind of trouble."

"Smart ass. Shut up and kiss me."

Michael moved in. "My pleasure Doctor," he said before claiming her lips.


	13. Chapter 13: Epilogue

"Dammit Veronica, you should be in the hospital, not sitting here!" Lincoln said to his stubborn wife for the hundredth time that afternoon.

Veronica just rolled her eyes and smiled calmly. "Lincoln, I'm fine. Sara said to wait until my water broke, and it hasn't," she said patiently.

Looking at Sara, she said, "tell him again please."

Sara laughed and looked at the couple. It was almost eight months since she had come to see Michael and she could not remember a happier time in her life. Although she and Michael had decided to take things slowly, they had both under-estimated their need to be together.

Within a month she had all but moved into his home, now _their_ home, and they had unanimously decided that that was definitely the best course of action. There was nothing about her existence she would change.

She loved her work, now more than ever. Michael and Lincoln's company was also starting to see profits much faster than they had anticipated. It seemed like changes were the order of the day.

"Lincoln, as a medical professional, I assure you, your wife is perfectly ok."

"Is she supposed to have had these mild contractions?" He asked with a worried frown.

"Just the body's way of naturally preparing itself for what's to come." she said patiently. "Although Veronica, I do think its time you leave everything to Nick and Maricruz. They're more than capable."

In line with changes, after Michael's release, Veronica and Nick had started their own legal practice. Maricruz Delgado, Fernando Sucre's fiancée at the time, had desperately been looking for work, and as an act of kindness, and desperation, as they needed someone fast, Nick had hired her as the receptionist/secretary.

It had mostly been due to the fact that Sucre was Michael's best friend and he wanted to help out. To everyone's relief, Maricruz was great at it. Sucre on the other hand was working for Lincoln on the construction site. There were days when heated arguments were the norm, but generally, things smoothed over pretty quickly. They weren't just colleagues. They were friends.

Sara smiled at the ensuing hilarity, left the couple in the living room of their home and entered the kitchen where LJ had escaped to the minute Veronica seemed to feel any kind of contraction.

Spotting him with his head in the refrigerator - as usual - she leaned on the doorframe and said, "Coward."

Whipping around, he at least had the grace to look chagrined as he swallowed a spoonful of custard.

"Not coward, its self preservation. I can't take the look of pain on her face; it cuts deep. Besides, Dad's bound to pass out anytime soon. Seeing as I carry his genes, I figure I'd better not tempt fate."

He shrugged and continued, "Jeez Sara, he was on death row and he made it out. Veronica's having a baby and he almost loses it." LJ shuddered dramatically and shook his head in disbelief before dipping back into the refrigerator.

Shaking her head, she took a moment to marvel at how far he had come. LJ was actually experiencing life as a teenager in an average neighbourhood, within a stable family. Life was being good to all of them.

Breaking the train of her thoughts, she heard LJ continue, "I mean, the only other person who went even more nuts than Dad was Sucre."

Looking at Sara with an expression akin to pained delight, he said, "Now he went _nuts_!"

"Who went nuts?" Michael asked as he entered the kitchen via the back door. Still dressed in a suit, tie discarded though, her handsome love walked over to her. It amazed her that she still melted when he looked at her.

Winking at LJ, he headed to Sara and kissed her in greeting. His arm still around her waist, he waited for an answer.

"Sucre," Sara volunteered, as LJ, who was clearly more interested in his stomach than the conversation, didn't answer. "When Maricruz gave birth to Enrique."

Michael laughed. "Aah, yes, our God child and my namesake," he said rather proudly.

Sara jabbed him in the ribs and said, "I'd hardly call Enrique Fernando Michael Sucre your namesake Michael."

Proving he was indeed listening to the conversation, LJ chuckled and added, "and it may be spelt like yours, but its not even pronounced like your name Uncle Mike. Its _Mik-Hail_."

Michael shrugged, "obviously inspired by greatness."

LJ snorted as Sara just rolled her eyes. She was about to comment when Lincoln's bellow beckoned.

"Sara! I think it broke!"

Stepping out from the circle of Michael's arms she was followed into the living room by LJ and Michael.

"Veronica?" She enquired as she rushed forward to check her vitals.

"Can you believe I'm actually relieved it broke? I don't think I could take anymore of Lincoln's fretting." At his dark look, she just added, "I love you honey."

Michael headed to the door, "I'll start the car. LJ, get Veronica's suitcase and Linc-"

"No need brother, I've got the precious cargo," he said as he carefully swung Veronica up into his arms. He ignored his wife as she said, "so dramatic!"

As she was literally swept out of the house, she called to Sara, "please call Maricruz and tell her I'm in labour. Oh and Nick.."

"I'm sure Maricruz will spread the news. Just relax, I'll take care of it." She called back as she grabbed her cell phone and followed them out, slipping into the front seat of Michael's SUV.

They grinned at each other and together turned to look at the amusing sight the threesome made on the back seat. A highly pregnant Veronica was squeezing the life out of the hands of her husband and jumpy stepson who flanked her on either side.

"Ready?" Michael asked.

At Lincoln's pained expression, and Veronica's frantic panting, Michael started the engine and said, "Ok. Hold on tight, we're having a baby!"

"You wanna have one of those with me?" Michael asked.

Sara almost keeled over. Staring at the viewing window of the nursery, she turned to him in jubilant disbelief. They had been admiring the latest addition to the family, Lincoln and Veronica's little girl.

_"What did you say?"_ She whispered incredulously.

Michael actually seemed a little self-conscious at his outburst, but didn't take it back. Turning to face her, he pulled her into his arms and quickly kissed her gaping mouth.

"I don't want to wait anymore. I love you. I want to spend my life with you. I want us to have children together and fill out home with chaos. I want to grow old with you."

Laughing a little at the irony of it all, he said, "the first time I literally laid eyes on you was in an infirmary, and now, almost two years later, I'm asking you to be my wife whilst standing in a hospital. We've come full circle Sara. How's that for romance?"

Sara's eyes glazed with tears. She waited a heartbeat before she jumped him, wrapping her legs around his waist and reining kisses all over his face.

"Yes!"

_Kiss on the left cheek._

"Yes, yes"

_Kiss of the right cheek and nose_.

"Yes!"

_Lingering kiss on the mouth._ Their tongues touched and their souls meshed.

Someone cleared their throat and said with merriment evident in their tone, "Papi, I don't think that display is exactly appropriate for all the little ones on the other side of that window. I've read recently that babies take in a lot more than we know."

Sara laughed and kissed Michael deeply one last time, savouring the emotions, the passion, love, respect and excitement that hadn't seemed to fade these past two years, before pulling back and planting her feet on the ground.

Looking at Fernando holding a bouncing baby Enrique, she said, "You two are the first to know then," gazing back at Michael with shimmering eyes, she said, "we're getting married."

Sucre looked at his son and said, "You hear that _hijo_?" Enrique giggled and rubbed his father's baldhead playfully before stretching out his plump arms and reaching for Sara.

"My son approves Michael. You caught a beautiful lady," he said as he handed the baby to Sara, and slapped Michael on the back. "About time you made an honest woman of the Doc Mike."

Enrique had latched onto Sara's locks and was grabbing fistfuls to put into his mouth. Watching Sara laugh in delight, Sucre stepped forward and helped disentangle his son's chubby fingers before leaning in and kissing Sara on the check.

_It won't be long before these two were having babies of their own,_ he thought. Out loud he said, "Congratulations Sara."

A few days later, Michael and Sara stood in the living room of their home, looking out at the guests who had come to celebrate the christening of Lindsay Elizabeth Burrows.

Sucre, Maricruz and baby Enrique were there, who at present was babbling incoherently on the lap of Henry Pope and his wife. Charles Westmoreland was also there and surprisingly Benjamin Franklin and his family. It had taken a lot of the former C-Note to come clean with his wife, but with encouragement he had. Things had been touch and go for a while, but there was love and support. They were going to be just fine.

"Funny how we have a room full of our closest friends, and more than half of them here are linked to a prison," Sara observed, highly amused.

"Good men, and good friends," he simply replied.

Turning into him Sara hugged him close, and caught sight of the simple, sparkling diamond ring adorning her finger. "Do you know Michael, that I'm happier than I ever thought possible?" Close to his ear she whispered, "thank you for showing me what love should be like and what families are supposed to mean. I've never had this," she said, by gesturing to the room.

He kissed her tenderly, locking their gazes. "I live to make you happy. I want our home to be a place of happiness and warmth. I want our family to be nothing like either of our experiences. Our children will be loved, safe and happy Sara."

Sara pulled back slightly, her arms resting on his shoulders, and arched her right eyebrow. "_Children_? Plural. Just how many are you after Scofield?" she asked sceptically.

He laughed mischievously before saying, "At least enough to rival Sucre's brood."

Sara choked and Michael pulled her back into his arms, rubbing her back soothingly. "Fernando's made no secret of the fact that he wants a little army!"

Michael laughed at her expression. "That means," he said as he leaned in and kissed her on the tip of her nose, "we need at least a little army, _plus one_."

Sara couldn't help but suppress a smile. "Very ambitious Scofield. And just when are we going to get the time to have this army?"

Pulling her closer he whispered against her lips, "seeing as we're already trailing Sucre by one, I figure that there's no time like the present Doctor," before kissing away any objection she may have had.


End file.
